The Genocide Machine
by DocPJ
Summary: Three X-Men have been having the same nightmare, about a young mutant in distress. They soon discover the boy is real, being held captive at a circus, put on display in the Freak Show. After rescuing the little mystery boy, his terrifying secret is revealed: he is the product of a secret program to create weaponized mutants. Can they save him from his fate?
1. Chapter 1

Remy LeBeau was dreaming.

Alone, trapped in some otherworldly house that seemed to pulsate with a life of its own. He felt like he was walking in circles through a maze of narrow hallways, the walls weirdly off-kilter, leaning to and fro, expanding and contracting, breathing. Uneven floors seemed to rise and fall, undulating, making him feel nauseated and dizzy. It was like being in one of those old carnival fun-house attractions, the ones that had always unnerved him in a way he couldn't explain. Things, shapes, undefined and fluid, moved among the shadows, just on the edge of his peripheral vision, gone when he tried to focus on them.

 _*Ayúdame! Por favor, Remy, se lo imploro,_ _ayúdame!*_

Remy startled. A voice, a whisper, rich with fear and pain, a child's voice. He knew it was Spanish, oddly accented, but had no idea what what the words meant.

"Désolé...Remy don't know what you sayin'!"

 _*Aidez-moi! S'il te plaît Remy, je t'en supplie, aidez-moi!*_

Once more, that voice, crying out to him, rapid French this time, pleading with him for help. Remy winced; there was no mistaking the urgency, the sense of immediacy that infused those words. An empath, the X-Man known as Gambit was struggling. It was an almost overwhelming assault on his psyche, and he couldn't help but feel his own mirrored emotions well up, unwanted, unbidden, to the surface. There was something just so _familiar_ about the presence that had invaded his dreams.

"Où es-tu, petit? Je ne puis te retrouver!" _Where are you, little one? I cannot find you!_ Remy cried. He began running, not knowing where he was or where he was going. He could sense the panic, the sheer terror of the boy who was calling out to him.

 _*Pitié, Remy, sauvez moi de les monstres!*_

Before Remy could get his bearings, a high-pitched keening wail split the air; it was like nothing Remy had ever heard before. He felt himself spinning down into darkness, falling, fear lancing his heart like a thousand little needles of ice.

Remy sat up in bed, soaked with sweat, heart hammering wildly in his chest. Pain flashed behind his eyes, then settled to a low throb. He glanced at the clock on his nightstand: 3:15 a.m. He wondered if he'd screamed. A sudden pounding on his door told him he had. He knew who was on the other side of the door right away: Chamber, late of Generation-X, Jonothon Starsmore. No surprise, that; his room was right next to Remy's.

 _*Remy!*_ Jono's husky, telepathic voice pierced Remy's mind. _*Remy! Yer okay, Rem? Answer me or I'm gonna kick the soddin' door in!*_

Remy groaned. "Remy hear ya, homme. " He rubbed his face and took a deep, calming breath. He was conflicted; he didn't want to burden Jono with his fear that these were more than just nightmares, but at the same time he desperately needed to talk about it.

More banging on his door shocked Remy out of his reverie.

 _*Yer gonna open the fuckin' door or not?*_ Again that insistent, Cockney voice sounded off inside Remy's head, refusing to be brushed aside.

"D'accord, homme, be right wit' ya. Gimme a moment. Arrête la, Jono, you gonna wake de ot'ers." Remy grimaced; hadn't meant to sound so angry. He sensed Jono's surprise, and felt his flash of irritation, quickly damped down.

 _*Orright.*_

Slowly, painfully, Remy got to his feet, fought back a wave of nausea, then stumbled over to the door. His hands shook as he unlocked it, opening it enough to let the young Brit in. Jono wasn't a big man, slender and wiry, standing just 5 foot 9 and weighing maybe 140lbs, tops. But what he lacked in physical stature, he more than made up for in his presence. Inside his body raged a powerful psionic furnace, capable of wreaking destruction on people and property. When his power had first manifested, it left Jono physically damaged - blowing away his lower jaw and part of his chest. Those ruined parts of his body were hidden beneath a layer of thick, rubbery black bandages, providing him an illusion of wholeness. Unable to speak, Jono communicated telepathically.

 _*Bugger me, Rems, I figgered yer were being murdered in 'ere. Oi, yer scared the shite outta me, mate.*_ Jono looked closely at Remy, could see how unnerved the Cajun was by the ashen cast to his skin, the way his entire body shook. Gently, Jono took him by the elbow and helped him back to the bed. Remy sat down and hugged himself with his arms. After a moment's hesitation, Jono dropped down beside him and laid a gentle hand on Remy's slumped shoulder.

 _*Yer need ter calm down now. Wot 'appened?*_

"Had one o' dose dreams again, but dis one...dis one was…" Remy's voice trailed off, and he shuddered hard. Jono knew he was struggling to get his emotions under control.

As always, Jono's thick, chestnut hair was a fright, and he quickly ran his hands through the sleep-tangled locks. When he'd heard Remy scream, jolting him out of a deep sleep, he was on his feet and running for Remy's room before he was even fully awake. He knew this wasn't the first time Remy had had this nightmare; they'd been plaguing the Cajun for the past week, robbing him of sleep.

Jono hadn't pressed him for details, knowing how Remy was about exposing his vulnerability. And Jono hadn't wanted to reveal his own secret - that he'd been having nightmares, too, though it was obvious that Remy, being an empath, was more profoundly affected by them. But he also knew it was time they talked about it before they both lost their minds.

 _*Yer wanna talk about it, pet?*_

Remy startled, surprised by the term of endearment. He looked closely at Jono, at those earnest yet sad brown eyes. His gaze moved to the rubbery black bandages that covered Jono from just below his long, narrow nose to the middle of his slender chest. It always made Remy's heart ache for the taciturn young mutant. Perhaps one day, when he felt brave, he would tell Jono that he thought he was beautiful.

"Oui, homme, I do...mais, you gonna t'ink ole Remy losin' his mind." He turned to look at Jono with those haunting eyes of his, crimson on black, unreadable most of the time. Not tonight. He looked embarrassed, ashamed almost, as if he was afraid the younger man might laugh at him.

 _*Go on now, just tell me. Yer can't keep somefing like this bottled up in yer, mate. S'orright, pet, I'm right 'ere wif yer.*_ Jono's warm hand slid from Remy's shoulder, fingers trailing lightly down the length of his arm, before coming to rest atop his clenched fist. Almost absentmindedly, Jono brushed his calloused thumb across the ridge of knuckles, soothing.

Remy sighed at the light touch, glad for it. "Dey gettin' worse, Jono. Mais, dey ain't dreams, I know dat for certain now." Remy stopped, seemed to be trying to sort out his thoughts. "I know him, Jono. I know dis boy. Don't know how, but I do."

Jono said nothing, just kept his hand folded over Remy's. Slowly, haltingly, Remy described the dream to him, what the disembodied voice had said, the emotions he'd felt, that he knew the boy was reaching out to him for a reason, for his help. When Jono remained silent, Remy was sure he didn't believe him, figuring him for a real head case.

"I know you t'inking maybe Remy tres fou, dat dis just a bunch o' nonsense mais, it ain't, Jono, dat jeune homme, he need help, need _our_ help, we gotta find him or…" Remy shook his head and made a strange choking sound. "You don't believe me." Then, without warning, he burst into tears, sobbing openly.

Jono was stunned at the onslaught of Remy's raw emotions, and struggled to stay calm.

 _*Wot are yer on about, then? I believe yer, pet, I do.*_ Jono paused, searching for the right words. _*Yer ain't mad. I know; I been dreamin' of 'im too.*_

"Merde," Remy whispered. "Jono...I don't know what dis all about, what to do…"

 _*Iffin yer ask me, we need ter find this poor lad.*_ Jono ducked his head close, searching Remy's pale, pinched face. _*Orright?*_

Remy swiped at his eyes and nose with the back of his hand, angry now that he'd let Jono see him cry. It passed quickly, and left Remy feeling exhausted but relieved. He brushed his auburn hair out of his eyes and forced a smile.

"D'accord, Jono. Mais, I sure am grateful to you, cher. Ever since I come back, you de only one 'sides Jean-Paul showed me any kindness, dat don't judge me. You and him? Seems like you two de only real friends I got, Jono."

It was then that Jono realized that Remy was as lonely, felt as isolated, as he did. It made him angry that Remy had been treated like a pariah by the people who were supposed to be his family.

 _*Fuck them wankers, the whole bloody lot of 'em. Well, 'cept for Northstar. Good man, Jean-Paul, even if 'e is a bit of a toff. The way them uptight gits act around 'im sometimes, it's no wonder 'e keeps his distance, innit? Outsiders is wot we are, mate, and we gorra stick close, like family is supposed ter.*_

Remy looked at Jono with unconcealed gratitude. He wasn't used to people taking his side, and he felt fresh tears sting his eyes. "So what we gonna do, cher?"

 _*We find 'im,*_ Jono replied. _*You, me and the flyin' frog are gonna find the lad. Sod the rest o' them plonkers._ *

Remy raised an eyebrow at that; he had no idea what a plonker was, but he assumed it wasn't a compliment. After a moment, the enormity of what Jono was suggesting hit Remy hard.

"Non, ami, I don' know if dat would be a bonne idee. I don't t'ink dey would want us goin' off de reservation like dat." Remy bit his lower lip, unable to shield Jono from the sickening fear that threatened to overwhelm him.

Jono understood what Remy was afraid of. He'd heard about the so-called trial that Remy had endured. He couldn't imagine what it had been like for Remy, to have his teammates - his family - turn on him, to be left to die in a frozen wasteland. It made him angry.

 _*Bullocks! We don't need them tossers' fuckin' permission, pet.*_ Jono held firm to Remy's hand, made him look at him. _*I won't let 'em do that ter yer ever again, not the bloody X-Men or anyone else. Never, yer 'ear me, Remy? Yer me best mate, and noffing's ever gonna change that.*_ And then, quick, before things got too sappy, Jono clapped Remy on the back and gave him what he knew Remy recognized as his way of smiling - crinkled eyes beneath raised brows. _*Now let's go get Frenchie. We got business.*_

They found Northstar in the kitchen, slumped in a chair, nursing a tumbler of whiskey. He looked like shit. The French-Canadian was usually so impeccable in his dress and appearance, but now, in the small hours of the morning, he seemed drawn, exhausted, wearing a rumpled pair of sleep pants, shirtless. His thick, blue-black hair was a mess. Despite this, Jono couldn't help thinking just how attractive Jean-Paul was. His face was lean and angular with high, sharp cheekbones and a long, aristocratic nose. And his body was incredible; years of being a professional athlete had honed his muscles to perfection. Jono had had some pretty interesting - and frustrating - dreams about Jean-Paul.

"You don't look so good, homme," Remy said softly as he joined him at the table. After a moment, Jono sat down, too. He tried hard not to stare at Jean-Paul. Even after nearly a year of being an X-Man, he still found it difficult not to make a complete fool of himself around Beaubier. Jono met the other man's eyes briefly, and wondered if he'd noticed him looking. A little smile tugged at the corner of Jean-Paul's perfect mouth. Jono felt a flush of embarrassment; no doubt he'd been caught. Not that it mattered. He was sure Jean-Paul was used to it.

Jean-Paul looked at Remy and smiled wanly. "I can't imagine I look any worse than you do, ami." He ran his hands through his hair and shrugged. "Sleep eludes me."

For a moment, Remy could sense Jean-Paul's confusion, his fear, and knew why. "You dreamin' o' de boy, ain't you?"

"Quoi?" Jean-Paul's head snapped up and his eyes narrowed. "I have no idea what you're talking about, LeBeau." He tugged at one of his pointed, leaf-shaped ears. It was a nervous habit, one he hated but could not stop.

 _*Oi, yer bloody well do, Frenchie.*_ Jono pinned Jean-Paul with his eyes. Before the speedster could lash out at him with that wicked tongue of his, Jono pressed on. _*It's orright, mate. Yer ain't the only one wot's been dreaming of 'im.*_ For a moment, Jono stared down at his hands. He gave the telepathic equivalent of a sigh. _*So 'ave I*_

For a tense moment, no one spoke. It was Jean-Paul, surprisingly, who broke the silence.

"Crisse.. _._ I hear carosel music when I dream of him. And he speaks to me...pleads to me...in French. Is he even here in Westchester?"

 _*I know the lad's close. Speaks ter me in English. Real odd accent, sounds kinda French, but I dunno fer sure.*_ Jono said, shrugging.

Remy shook his head as if to clear it. "I dream of him at une carnivale...in de funhouse, I t'ink." He cocked his head to one side. "Don't know why he's reachin' out to us, mais it's clear as day he needs us. And we gotta find him, before it's too late, neh?"

"I can't find him, when he calls to me in my sleep," Jean-Paul whispered. "I look and I look and I _cannot find him._ "

 _*We will. Lad's sendin' us clues.*_ Jono said, firm. _*I saw one of them 'orrible freak show signs.*_ He gave an involuntary shudder; he hated the sideshows. Even before his face had been blown in half, Jono had felt an affinity with the strange souls on display. _*Gorra be someplace nearby, a fair, or travelin' show. No chance the lad is real far away.*_

Jean-Paul flew to his room and back in a matter of seconds. He was carrying his laptop. Without a word, he sat back down at the table, his fingers flying over the keyboard. An internet search revealed the location of a decrepit circus that had closed down the week before.

"Ici! Here, it must be here," Jean-Paul said, pointing to the screen. "Not far, either. I can be there in minutes."

"You ain't goin' alone, Jean-Paul," Remy said, firm. "No way you can carry de two of us, and I don't t'ink we gonna get away wit' takin' de Blackbird."

 _*Jesus, we can soddin'_ _ **drive**_ _, can't we?*_ Jono said, exasperated. _*Yer gorra fast car, dontcha, Jean-Paul?*_

Jean-Paul raised his eyebrows at that. He did, indeed, have a brand-new BMW in the mansion's garage.

"Oui, but I am driving. There is no way I am letting either of you maniacs drive my new car. She is...special."

Remy gave a surprised bark of laughter. "She is, eh? You maybe afraid ole Gambit might steal her 'way from you?"

Despite himself, Jean-Paul smiled. "Ah, you are delusional as always, mon cher Remy. Come, mes amis, let us go get the boy."


	2. Freak Show

Jean-Paul loaded the coordinates into the Beemer's GPS, hit the auto-start and sat back as the powerful German engine purred to life. He gave a satisfied smile as Jono crawled into the backseat, while Remy claimed shotgun.

"Ready?" Jean-Paul asked with a sly grin. He steered the car out of the garage, down the narrow road away from the school, then opened it up once they reached the main road. Despite himself, Remy made a small hissing sound and reached for the door handle, holding on tight. From the back, Jono was clearly entertained by Remy's reaction to Jean-Paul's mad driving skills. He realized he didn't get out often enough, and was actually enjoying himself. He had to fight the urge to give a telepathic shout of glee.

"Merde, Jean-Paul...you drive like you fly," Remy muttered. He heard Jono's telepathic equivalent of a laugh. The usually dour and cynical Beaubier grinned.

"Not to worry, Gambit, I will get us there alive." Jean-Paul goosed the gas around a sharp turn, handling the sleek vehicle with skill. Remy looked like he was going to puke. Jono thrilled at the speed, the danger, the almost reckless freedom of it all.

After an hour of driving through the country, they were nearly to their destination.

 _*Up ahead, Frenchie. See the sign?*_ Jono pointed to a faded billboard advertising "Le Cirque du Bizarre, 1 mile ahead" with a list of attractions including, to Jono's dismay, a "Fantastical Freak Show, Guaranteed to Make You Scream in Terror!"

"Tabarnac," Jean-Paul muttered, unable to suppress a shudder of disgust. He turned and drove slowly down the old, heavily wooded road. There was nothing around, just fields and tumbledown barns. This was a part of upstate New York none of them had really seen before. In the hazy light of dawn, it seemed eerie. Another sign directed them to a small dirt road. Jean-Paul pulled over and killed the engine.

"We walk from here," Jean-Paul said. After a moment's hesitation, he handed Remy the keys. Remy gave him a questioning look. "In case the boy...in case I must fly him out."

Remy nodded sharply and took the proffered keys. He tucked them inside the pocket of his coat. "Let's go find him, eh?"

 _*Bugger me, I never did like these places,*_ Jono said as the trio trudged through the abandoned circus.

"Give me de creeps," Remy replied, nodding. His head was on a swivel, eyes scanning the grounds. Whoever had been running the place, they hadn't stuck around long enough to even dismantle the tents or rides. At the end of the fairway, past the shuttered food stands and other ramshackle huts, they saw it: the Side Show. It was a smaller tent, torn and ragged, the worst of a bad lot. They could see no movement inside. The air was still, no sounds, not even insects or birds. It was a surreal feeling.

"Can you...can you hear him, Jono? Remy, anything?" Jean-Paul asked, his body tensed, standing on the balls of his feet.

"Not'ing. Not'ing at all," Remy whispered, paling noticeably. He brushed his auburn hair from his eyes.

Jono stood still, eyes closed, scanning for anything, any thoughts other than their own.

 _*Can yer 'ear me? It's Jono, lad. I'm here wif Remy and Jean-Paul. We came for yer, luv.*_ Jono waited, fear twisting inside him when he got no answer. Then, so faint it was like a sigh in his ear, he heard him:

 _*Jono...Jono...I am...dying…*_

 _*NO. Don't yer say it, lad, don't yer dare!*_ Jono looked at his companions, fear written clearly on his face. They'd all "heard" the exchange between him and the boy, and shared his concern.

Remy ran into the tent, his friends right behind him. Inside were row after row of crudely constructed huts, each containing a cage. The first advertised the Two-Headed Girl. Another, the Fat Lady. The Snake Man. Many more just like them. All empty.

Then, the last exhibit: The Mongoose Boy. That's where they found him. Curled up in the far corner of the cage, lying on a pile of old straw, was the slight, pale body of a child. He was dressed only in a torn pair of shorts. Remy figured him for about seven years old, maybe even younger. It was hard to tell, he seemed so small lying there. For a long moment, they could only stand there, overwhelmed by the sight, as if they couldn't believe what they were seeing. It was impossible, almost, to accept that anyone was capable of such cruel abuse and neglect.

"We're here, petit!" Remy said, shaking off the shock. "Just you hang on, honey, we gonna get you outta dere!" The still form did not move in response to Remy's voice. A small burst of kinetic energy from Remy's fingertip was enough to fry the old, rusty lock from the door of the cage. Remy went right to the boy, afraid of what he might find: that they hadn't gotten there in time. The very idea filled Remy with a cold dread.

Kneeling beside the boy, Remy gently rolled him over onto his back. He felt his heart ache at the sight of the sweet-faced child, a ragged and dirty stuffed mouse tucked in the crook of his arm. Beside him was a dented metal dog bowl; it was almost empty, with just an inch of scummy water remaining on the bottom. Remy couldn't help the involuntary shudder that danced up and down his spine at the thought of the little boy drinking from it. Quickly, Remy checked the child's pulse - it was fast and weak, his breathing shallow but regular. Remy's relief was obvious.

"Talk to me, cher," Remy whispered, stroking the boy's sweaty forehead.

Jean-Paul gazed at the child. "Is he…?" His voice trailed off, and he was unable to finish the question. He felt a wave of sickness turn his gut. There were definite signs of long-term abuse: old bruises and scars on his body, ligature marks worn into the skin of his neck. They'd kept him chained. On his wrists and ankles were heavy leather cuffs that appeared to have been sewn on. Why, was anybody's guess.

"He's alive," Remy said. There were tears in his eyes as he lifted the boy into his arms. He was a mutant, they could see, a beautiful, almost angelic child, with skin like aged ivory. He had a sweet, heart-shaped face, tipped-up nose, hair the color of an old penny. His ears were large, sail-shaped and covered with a fine fur that was lighter than his hair. A long, thick tail, the same rust red as his ears, trailed down his legs. His hands and feet were clawed.

 _*Bloody 'ell,*_ Jono muttered. He couldn't wrap his head around the idea that someone had taken this small mutant, just a child, and kept him chained in a cage for the amusement of others. He wanted nothing more than to hunt down whoever had done this and blast them into ashes.

Remy was looking down at the boy in his arms. There was an odd expression on the Cajun's face.  
"Wake up, little one," Remy whispered, lowering his shields and reaching out to the boy, not with thoughts, but with emotion, with tenderness. "C'mon now honey, wake up for Remy."

The boy's eyes fluttered open. They were large, the color of molten gold, fringed with thick, dark lashes and framed by arching brows. "Remy?" the boy croaked. He turned his gaze then to the others. "Jono? I heard your voice...I heard you all."

Jono fought back tears. _*Yer done real good, luv.*_

"Merci Dieu," Jean-Paul whispered, relieved that the boy was conscious and talking. When he'd first seen him lying so still, Jean-Paul's heart had sunk, afraid that they'd been too late. Jono reached out and squeezed his shoulder. For a brief moment, Jean-Paul leaned into Jono's touch, then quickly pulled back.

The boy turned his golden eyes on Northstar. "You came for me..." He stopped, seemed to be struggling to breathe, as if just talking exhausted him. "I did not think you would be able to find me. I was so scared. But I kept trying...and you did…" He coughed, a raw, painful sound emanating from deep in his chest. It sounded as if his lungs were full of fluid.

"Oui, mon chou. You were very brave. And you must be brave still. It is almost over, darling," Jean-Paul said, gently stroking his forehead. He frowned. The boy was burning up; he could feel the heat of his skin even through his gloves. He looked at Remy with a pained, worried expression. "He's very sick, Remy. You need to give him to me. I must get him to Henri."

The boy reached up and touched Remy's face. "I dreamed of you most of all," he sighed in his softly accented English. Jono cocked his head to one side; he thought he knew, now, where the boy was from.

Remy kissed him on the forehead, wincing as he felt the boy's raging fever. "We gonna get you somewhere safe, cher. Jean-Paul, he gonna take you to our friend, get you all fixed up." Remy kissed him again, then reluctantly handed him off to Northstar. "Be careful wit' him, Jean-Paul." He dug the keys out of his coat, then stripped it off, handed it to Jean-Paul. Nodding, Jean-Paul wrapped the boy in it, then tucked him close against his own body.

"I expect you back at the school - not a scratch on my car - within an hour, LeBeau," Jean-Paul said firmly. "And you, Jono...we will discuss this 'Frenchie' unpleasantness later, I assure you." It was obvious he was trying hard to stay calm, reverting to his bitchy persona as a way of protecting himself. He didn't wait for a reply before streaking away into the early morning sky.

Jono shielded his eyes against the sun, watching until the speedster was out of sight. He felt a deep sense of satisfaction, and relief. Unfortunately for him, Remy didn't share those feelings. The Cajun was radiating anger.

"I want dem," Remy hissed, anger building rapidly. All that swallowed rage, all that hidden pain, it threatened to come bubbling to the surface. " _I'm gonna kill who did dis, Jono!"_

Jono flinched under Remy's empathic assault. He grabbed his friend's arm.

 _*Stop! Jesus Remy, ease up, mate!*_ Jono cried; his shields were still down, and he started to buckle under the onslaught of his friend's wild fury, free from restraint.

Remy whirled around and saw Jono bent over, hand pressed to his head. He looked like he was about to faint. Remy caught Jono in his arms, held him steady as he dropped to his knees.

"Désolé! I'm so sorry, Jono!" He cupped Jono's pale face in his hands, made him look at him. "Jono, I didn't mean to hurt you, cher, I was just so angry…"

Jono nodded weakly. _*I know yer didn't mean ter, ducks. Took me off guard, is all.*_ Jono crinkled his eyes, those beautiful, soft brown eyes of his. Remy pressed his forehead against Jono's in relief. For a long moment, the two men stayed there, face to face, touching, arms around one another in mutual reassurance and comfort.

"Merci, Jono," Remy whispered as he helped Jono to his feet. "Don't mean to rush you, cher, but we best be goin' before Northstar come and hunt us down, neh?" He paused and took a deep breath. "I need to see de boy. I need to know he gonna be alright."

Jono nodded. _*Then lets see just 'ow fast that sexy German bitch can go, eh mate?*_


	3. I Am Nobody

"Henri!"

Dr. Hank McCoy swiveled his large blue furry body around, startled to see Northstar there in his black and white uniform, a bundle in his arms. More concerning was the look on Jean-Paul's face; he looked pale and distressed.

"Jean-Paul...what is this…" Hank stuttered. Jean-Paul pulled away Gambit's coat, revealing the seemingly lifeless child in his arms.

" _S'il te plaît! Help him!"_

Hank snapped into action, taking the boy from Jean-Paul and rushing him into the adjoining Med Lab. He began barking orders at his nurse as he lay him down on one of the surgical tables. Jean-Paul stood close by, silent, watching.

"Where did you find him?" Hank asked as he and Annie, the nurse, began setting up IVs.

"A deserted circus...about an hour from here," Jean-Paul answered breathlessly. "We found him, like this, abandoned, in a cage. A cage, Henri! _Tabarnac!_ God knows how long he was there!"

McCoy studied the readout on the med display. A rapid scan had been done of the boy's body, gathering vital information and imaging his internal organs. "He's got advanced bilateral bacterial pneumonia. High fever. Dehydration. Severely undernourished." He began drawing blood samples. "I'll start him on IV antibiotics and get him hydrated, stabilized, then we'll see if we can learn more about the boy." He paused and narrowed his eyes at Jean-Paul. "Now, my friend, do you care to explain what's going on here? I suspect there is much to tell me."

Jean-Paul grimaced; he was uncomfortable, still, with telling anyone that he'd shared some kind of psychic connection with a child. After all, he was notorious for not being the most child-friendly of people. Well, that and he didn't like the idea that he was so emotionally affected by it, by the boy's squalid, cruel existence...and he didn't like others knowing he had those vulnerabilities.

" _Crisse_...it started a week ago," Jean-Paul finally said. In a rush, sentences sprinkled with French, he told McCoy everything: the dreams, the boy calling out to him, to Chamber, to Gambit. That the three of them had taken it upon themselves to find him. That he was exactly where he'd led them. The horrible conditions in which they had found him.

"Fascinating. I wonder why you three, and not any of the rest of us?" McCoy rubbed his chin. He raised his hand to make a point when a series of loud alarms went off. "Damnit!"

Moving fast, Annie pulled a crash cart up beside the boy's bed. "Cardiac arrest," she said firmly, nodding at her boss. Hank turned to Jean-Paul and pushed him out of the room.

"Stay out there! I'll do what I can!" McCoy barked, then shut the door behind him. Jean-Paul stood there in the small waiting room, not moving, just staring at the closed Med Lab door. He could hear McCoy in there, giving orders to Annie. Despite himself, he said a small prayer for the boy from the cage.

Remy and Jono found Jean-Paul sitting alone in the Med Lab's waiting area, his head in his hands. He looked up at them as they entered, and smiled wanly. Remy looked worried, but for some reason Jono seemed positively elated. His hair was completely wind-blown, his usually pale skin flushed. He wasn't about to tell Jean-Paul just how fast Remy had driven, top down, practically flying over those winding country roads. Jean-Paul thought he looked beautiful, in a wild and wanton sort of way.

"Well?" Remy asked, cautious. His eyes flicked to the med-lab door. He seemed to be concentrating, trying to sense the boy.

"He's alive," Jean-Paul said, quick to reassure them. "We had one close moment...his little heart stopped for a minute or so, but Henri has him stabilized. He's running some tests now, and will be out to give us an update soon, I hope."

Remy gave an obvious sigh of relief. "Merci Dieu." He tossed Jean-Paul his keys. "Sweet ride, ami. She sure do handle dose curvy roads."

Jean-Paul gave Remy a crusty look. "Not one scratch?"

"Not one scratch, je promets. Mais, Remy did put her away hot an' wet," Remy teased.

Jono rolled his eyes. _*Oi, that's completely spun, mate,*_

Jean-Paul smiled broadly. It made his face, which was usually so serious in repose, that much more handsome. Jono looked at him - Beaubier was a stunningly attractive man, with his aristocratic features and slender body all sharp angles and planes and sexy, long lines. And he knew it, too. Even the way he moved was beautiful, as if everything he did was choreographed. Jono shook his head; it was difficult not to just stare, goggle-eyed, at him.

 _*Yer bonkers, the two of yer,*_ Jono muttered, finally tearing his attention away from Jean-Paul.

They all turned as an exhausted but content looking Beast opened the Med Lab door and joined them in the waiting room. He pushed his glasses up onto his forehead and rubbed his eyes.

"He's going to be fine. Rest, hydration, nutrition, antibiotics. That's what he's going to need, and a lot of it." Hank paused. "He's a very unique little individual, our mystery boy."

Remy frowned. "Eh? What you mean, Henri?"

"Besides his obvious mutant characteristics, he's a very powerful telepath. I've had to sedate him, because his shields are nonexistent at the moment. It's difficult to concentrate when one is being bombarded with all those raw emotions." Hank paused and stretched. "Physically, he has a very interesting defense mechanism. Under those leather bands? I found spurs at the inside of his wrists and above his heels. Quite sharp. They're retractable, like a cat's claw, sit between the two bones of his forearms and shins. Measure about four inches long. They're hypodermics, as well."

 _*Bugger me, really? Like needles, yer mean. But wot in 'ell for?*_ Jono looked stunned by the idea.

Hank smiled. "Venom delivery system. There's a small sac at the base of each spur. Contains a potent paralytic agent that renders the victim unable to move, but still conscious. Frightening, really. And he has enough venom at any given time to knock down a man ten times his size for hours."

"That's why the leather bands," Jean-Paul said.

"Exactly. I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of one of them. In the meantime, until he wakes, I'm going to keep them on. I don't want him accidentally harming one of us if he panics."

"How old is he, Hank?" Remy asked. "Any idea where he from?"

Hank held up his hand. "As to your first question, that is complicated. His body is that of a seven year old boy. But according to tests on his DNA, chromosomal makeup and such, he's no more than three years old. He rapidly aged at first, and then for some reason, the aging was stopped. This boy has become trapped in preadolescence. Artificially so, I might add." He paused again, let all that sink in.

" _Câlisse_ …" Jean-Paul whispered. "What for?"

Hank shrugged. "I can't even answer that right now. I suspect we won't know until we talk to him." He paused and rubbed his eyes. "As to where he is from? DNA suggests somewhere in France."

 _*Brittany*_ Jono said. The others turned and looked at him. _*When I 'eard him talk, I recognized the accent. Knew a bloke in London, 'e was from there, one o' them real Celtic sods, 'e was.*_

"Ahh, yes. A Breton. Would explain the results. Of course, the tests I've run are preliminary; I'll know more later, hopefully identify any close relatives," Hank said. "What he is doing here, again, we will wait to ask him when he's ready to answer some questions. I don't want to stress him any further."

"What did dey do to him? At de circus?" Remy asked softly. His fists were clenched.

"I can only guess. He's covered in old snake bites." McCoy grimaced. "Cobra bites to be precise. Labs showed high levels of natural antivenins in his system. The poison must not affect him."

 _*It was part of that fuckin' sideshow,*_ Jono said. There was no mistaking his anger. _*Them soddin' bastards, they made him fight cobras. Like a mongoose. Like a fuckin' animal. And they beat that poor lad, too, dinnit they?*_

Hank frowned. "Yes, I'm afraid. There's definite signs of long term abuse. I worry for his state of mind."

Remy shook his head fiercely. "He's a sweet child. You'll see it, when he wakes. You can't help but see de good in him, de spirit dey couldn't break."

 _Night._

Remy was holding vigil beside the boy's bedside. Jean-Paul had eventually wandered off to brood, and Jono was crashed out on the couch in the waiting room. During the day, many of their fellow X-Men had come to check in on the child, to fuss over him, to ask McCoy whispered questions. Storm stayed for a while, brushing his hair and helping Annie give him a much-needed sponge bath. Nightcrawler and Iceman came, both leaving profoundly stricken by the cruelty of it all. Angel made a brief appearance, but seemed uncomfortable and left quickly. Logan even dropped by, but said nothing before walking away, a grim look on his face.

McCoy studied the Cajun. He was beginning to understand why the boy had reached out to Gambit. And Northstar and Chamber, too. It was their histories. Jonothon Starsmore: raised by an abusive, alcoholic father and his beaten-down mother, abandoned by his family after he'd been horribly maimed when his mutant powers had literally exploded from his body. Remy LeBeau: cast out as a demon child by his birth parents, raised on the streets stealing for a living, saved by Jean-Luc LeBeau, head of the New Orleans Thieves Guild, after he'd caught young Remy trying to pick his pocket. And finally, Jean-Paul Beaubier: orphaned twice, a young runaway to the circus, later to become a world-class skier, only to have his medals stripped from him after his speedster powers were revealed, doubly hated for being both gay and a mutant.

Remy, meanwhile, hadn't left the boy's side except once, when he'd run into town. He'd returned with clothes for him, in a size he hoped fit: t-shirts, jeans, tennis shoes, socks and underwear, pajamas. And he'd bought him a stuffed, somewhat goofy-looking hedgehog, to replace the filthy, flea-ridden toy mouse they'd found him with.

The boy was lying on his side, knees tucked up, one arm under his head, the other wrapped tightly around the stuffed toy. He was still hooked up to an IV, pumping antibiotics and fluids into his system. Remy gently placed his hand on the boy's arm, and leaned in to press a kiss to his forehead. He was rewarded with a tiny, close-lipped smile.

"Hey, cher, how 'bout you open dem beautiful eyes for Remy, oui?" Remy whispered in his ear. The boy's eyes flickered open. Remy felt a rush of emotions from him: surprise, then relief and gratitude, and then, finally, simply, love.

"Remy," the boy whispered, reaching his hand up to touch Remy's face.

Remy nodded and smiled down at the boy, gave his hand a quick kiss. He looked up at Hank, who was watching the exchange closely. Hank nodded back, encouraging him.

Gently, Remy helped him into a sitting position and sat down next to him on the bed. Not sure if the boy understood English well, Remy spoke in French to him.

"Il n'est nul bosoin de pleuer." _Everything is going to be all right_

The boy nodded, smiled again, but said nothing. While calm, Remy could feel his lingering fear and distrust. And beneath that, Remy sensed something else, something so horrible that the boy had pushed it deep down inside himself and was struggling to keep it there.

Remy pressed on, gently. "Alors, petit, comment t'appelles-tu?" _now, little one, what is your name?_

Suddenly, the boy's eyes glazed over, lost focus. His body went rigid, and he spoke in a dull monotone, no accent, no inflection. "I am Nobody. Who are you? Are you Nobody, too?"

Remy gasped. McCoy made a quick hissing noise. The boy's response was chilling, and Hank knew it was a direct product of the attempt to dehumanize him, to make him into an animal. It was clear the boy had been subjected to some very cruel programming.

"Mais, non! Don't you say dat! You ain't a nobody, petit!" Remy pulled him close. For a moment the boy stiffened, resisting, then melted into Remy's arms, holding tight to him, great hitching, hiccuping sobs wracking his slender body. Remy drew him fully into his embrace, whispering soothing words in his ear, rocking him gently until the sudden storm of his tears had passed.

Remy took a tissue and wiped the boy's eyes and nose. "Dere you go, petit. All better." He settled the boy down on the bed beside him, wrapped his arm gently around his thin, hunched shoulders. "Tell me your name, cher."

The boy looked down at his hands. "Señora Maria, she showed me the tightrope, how to do it...she called me Tavi. From the book? About the mongoose and the cobra? Don't know no other name." He peeked up through his long bangs at Remy, searching his face for approval.

"Tavi! Dat's a fine name," Remy chuckled. "Dis big blue furry fella here is Henri McCoy."

"How do you do young man?" McCoy held out his big hand to Tavi. Timidly, Tavi laid his small hand in Hank's and squeezed, then drew it back.

"You're hurt!" Tavi cried, then grabbed McCoy's hand again. Before Hank knew what was happening, a warm glow spread from Tavi's hand to his. It felt like joy. His back stopped hurting. He'd injured it in the danger room, and it had been getting worse ever since. Now the pain, the stiffness, was gone.

"Oh my stars and garters…" Hank whispered. Remy looked on in amazement. "A healer."

Tavi smiled shyly. "Is the hurting gone?"

"Completely, my dear young Tavi. Thank you." Hank smiled at him, although it was forced. While linked to Tavi, he'd caught a glimpse of the boy's sweet soul. His True Self. And Remy had been right; the bastards who had hurt his body had failed to break his spirit. But there was a darkness there, too. A darkness that scared Tavi, and made McCoy's blood run cold.

Tavi was a powerful Omega-level mutant, and still, technically, just a child. With a very frightening secret.


	4. Revelations

_Three weeks later..._

Tavi was finally well enough to leave the Med Lab for good and move into a room of his very own. McCoy let Remy give him the good news; the child had been chomping at the bit, wanting to get out and explore his new surroundings more thoroughly.

"But first, cher, a real bath," Remy said gently. For a moment, Tavi paled, but nodded. He let Remy lead him to one of the private bathrooms, where he'd already filled the tub with hot, bubble-filled water.

"I...I don't want to, Remy," Tavi said softly, looking at his feet. "I don't like the cold."

Remy looked confused. "Mais, non, cher...dis water, it is warm! See?" He took Tavi's hand and dipped it into the water. Tavi's golden eyes grew huge, and filled with tears. "Ah, petit...what is it? Why you so scared of de water?"

Tavi bit his lower lip. "I...the Boss...he made me bathe in ice water. It was so _cold,_ Remy. It hurt."

"De Boss?" Remy asked, careful. In the time that Tavi had been there, he and McCoy had been gently trying to learn more about his past. Unfortunately, they hadn't been able to get very far; Tavi seemed too frightened and traumatized to speak about it. Anything they had learned had come in little bits and pieces, like the crumb Tavi had just dropped. "Who is dis Boss? You mean, from de circus?"

Tavi shook his head and stared down at his feet. "N-no. He...no. Not 'spose to talk about it," he muttered. He looked back up at Remy, pleading eyes shiny with unshed tears. "S'il te plaît, Remy...don't make me tell. I'm scared."

"Listen to me, cher," Remy took Tavi by the shoulders, made him look at him. "You are _safe_ here. Dis Boss? He will never hurt you again. _I will never let anyone hurt you again, I swear it._ And you don't need to talk about any of dat unless you want, neh?" He pressed a kiss to the boy's forehead. "Now, I left you some clothes on de washstand. I hope dey fit." He paused again, sensing Tavi's lingering fear. "I will be right outside de door, tu sais?"

Tavi nodded somberly, then, surprising Remy, he threw his arms around him and gave him a quick hug before stepping away again. Remy smiled at him and ruffled his hair. "You call for me if you need anyt'ing, petit. I come right in."

"Merci, Remy," Tavi whispered then, quickly, softly added, "Je t'aime, Remy."

Remy felt a pain in his chest, hearing the boy tell him he loved him. "Je t'aime aussi, Tavi."

An hour later, Remy knocked on the bathroom door. "You alright in dere, petit?"

A happy giggle was the answer. "Oui! Just getting dressed, Remy. Be right out." A few moments later, Tavi opened the door. His still-wet hair was a fright. The clothes Remy had bought him were a bit too big, not that it mattered; the young boy was beaming with delight. His gold eyes were glowing, and even his big, fur-covered ears were perked up. His tail, pulled through a specially-tailored hole in the back of his jeans, was fluffed out, shiny and clean like his hair.

"Ah! Tu es un beau jeune homme, Tavi!" Remy couldn't help but grin. He snatched up a brush from the washstand. "Mais, we gotta do somet'ing 'bout dat mop o' hair." He took Tavi by the hand and led him to a small bedroom that had been set aside for him. It was across the hall from Remy's. Hank had thought it best to keep the two of them close to one another, in case Tavi had any problems adjusting to his new home.

"Dis your room, Tavi. You gonna stay here."

Tavi looked around the cozy little space, with its twin bed, dresser, end table and lamp. There was even a little student desk. Tavi seemed reluctant to enter. Remy sensed his fear, and gently squeezed his shoulder.

"My room...it's right dere. And next to mine? Dat's where Jono stays. Jean-Paul, his room ain't far away, either. So no need for you to be afraid, petit." Remy sat down on the bed and patted the spot next to him. "Now, sit down and let Remy see what he can do 'bout your hair, neh?"

Dutifully, Tavi sat on the edge of the bed and let Remy work the tangles from his hair. It took a while, and Remy was as gentle as possible. Combed out, it fell in thick waves to Tavi's shoulders. When Remy was done, he smiled at Tavi.

"Much better, oui?" Remy asked.

Tavi turned and looked at himself in the mirror above the dresser. His eyes widened in surprise. He looked like any other young boy. Without warning, he burst into tears and threw himself into Remy's arms.

"Merci...merci...merci…" Tavi choked, holding tight to Remy's neck. Remy held him close and let him cry it out. Finally, exhausted, tears spent, Tavi sat back and swiped at his nose and eyes.

"Tu te sens mieux maintenant, cher?" _Are you feeling better now, dear?_

"Uh huh." Tavi took a deep breath, and stared down at his hands, clasped tightly in his lap. Remy had come to recognize this gesture as Tavi's way of wanting to ask something, but too afraid to do so for fear of getting in trouble, for crossing some line. Remy had been patiently working to reassure the young boy that those days were over.

"What is it, petit?" Remy asked, soft, gentle.

Tavi shrugged. "J'ai très faim _."_

"Well den, let us find you somet'ing to eat! What you feel like, petit? Anyt'ing you want, Remy get you."

Tavi sighed wistfully and licked his lips. "Bread. Real fresh bread. Cheese. Soup, don't matter what kind. Oranges! And something sweet after?" He stopped and blushed, ashamed at his list of foods, thinking it greedy. Remy just laughed.

"You, petit, are in for a real treat. Come wit' me. I know just who we should consult on de matter."

Remy took Tavi by the hand and led him to Jean-Paul's room to invite him to dinner. He announced Tavi's menu, which made the usually dour man smile.

"I know the perfect place. A little French cafe in town. I stumbled upon it quite by accident a few weeks ago." Jean-Paul stood and pulled on his jacket. "No need to dress up. Very casual, but the food is fantastic, especially their soups. Made from scratch every day." He paused and looked at Remy "What about Jono?" he asked, wondering if they should invite the young Brit along, knowing he wouldn't be able to share the meal. Jono didn't eat or drink. His psionic force kept him alive, but it had robbed him of some of life's little pleasures.

"Oui! Jono must come!" Tavi insisted. "He will be happy to go. He doesn't like to be stuck in here all the time."

Remy looked closely at Tavi. "He told you dis?"

Tavi ducked his head, shy. "I...I heard his thoughts. I am sorry, Remy...I did not mean to. I just...I am not so good at keeping out others thoughts."

Remy knelt down beside Tavi, placed a finger beneath his chin and lifted his face up so that he could look in his eyes. "We will work on dat, Tavi. We have people here who can help you control your powers. To help you shield your mind, keep unwanted t'oughts from ot'ers out, and protect yours from dem. Just, for now, do de best you can, cher." Remy smiled warmly at him and ruffled his hair. "Now, how 'bout we grab Jono and go get some o' dat good chow you want, neh?"

 _Le Café de Jardin_

As Jean-Paul pulled the BMW into the lot of the little cafe, he handed a small device to Tavi; it was an Image Inducer, meant to hide his mutant appearance. Jono refused to use one, figuring people would just assume, rightly, that he was somehow disfigured under the bandages.

"This will give you a normal appearance," Jean-Paul explained.

Tavi looked confused. "Why would I need it?"

Jean-Paul exchanged a surprised look with Remy. Remy held up his hand.

"You are a mutant, petit and you have very...distinct physical characteristics. Ain't not'ing to be ashamed of; we just wanna protect you from any unpleasantness. Not everyone real friendly to our kind."

"Our kind? I don't understand," Tavi asked, still confused; he'd never heard the term mutant applied to him before. "But...I am...a _freak._ People looked at me all the time, just as I am."

Jono cringed. _*No yer ain't no freak, lad. Yer a mutant, just like me, an' Jean-Paul, an' Remy. Ain't nobody explained that to yer?*_

"No. No one ever called me that before," Tavi said, his voice trembling. "You mean...I am like you? Like all of you?"

Jono, who was seated in the backseat with Tavi, crinkled his eyes at the young mutant. He turned the Imager on and gave Tavi a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder. _*Yer just like us, Tavi, me little luv. Yer family._ _**Our**_ _family. Don't yer never forget it."_

Jean-Paul gave a dramatic sigh. "May we go inside now? I don't know about the rest of you, but I am positively famished."

 _*Man eats like a bloody 'orse,*_ Jono said with a telepathic laugh. Jean-Paul flipped him the bird. Tavi slapped his hand to his mouth and gave a muffled giggle.

As promised, Tavi was allowed to order anything he wanted. He feasted on fresh crusty bread and a variety of gourmet cheeses and fruit, tried the incredible French onion soup that Jean-Paul recommended, and polished off his meal with a large helping of sweet, rich creme brulee. Surprising them all, his table manners were actually quite good. Jean-Paul nodded his approval several times.

Remy was particularly pleased that Tavi gabbled on throughout the meal, finally shedding his initial shyness. He spoke of the few good times in the circus, learning the trapeze and tight-rope, quiet evenings with Señora Maria, the woman who had taught him those skills, taught him to speak Spanish, to read. He told them of her kindness, of the hot chocolate and food she would sneak him on cold evenings. It didn't go unnoticed by any of them that this was the first time they'd seen Tavi so happy, so relaxed.

Tavi actually managed to eat almost as much as Jean-Paul, which was amazing. The Quebecois speedster consumed an enormous amount of calories due to his hyperactive metabolism. Jean-Paul grinned at him; he seemed genuinely charmed by the boy.

"Have you had enough to eat, Tavi? Or is there something else you would like?" Jean-Paul asked, smiling indulgently at Tavi.

"Unnn...I am stuffed!" Tavi patted his belly. "I do not think I have eaten like that since…" Suddenly, his smile faded and he seemed to shut down emotionally. That same eerie blank look that Remy had first seen when they had asked him his name - when he had replied that he was Nobody - returned. He went deathly pale, and a thin sheen of sweat slicked his skin.

"Stay...stay away from me!" Tavi cried weakly. He seemed to be fighting something, some horrible vision. His eyes were like two giant golden orbs, wide with fear. " _Partez le monstre!"_

"Tavi?" Gently, Remy shook his shoulder. Tavi collapsed sideways into Remy's arms and began to shake hard. " _TAVI!"_

"Mon Dieu...is he having a seizure?" Jean-Paul asked, standing quickly. Around them, people started to stare.

Jono shook his head. He was being bombarded with frightening, disjointed thoughts from Tavi. Remy, too, was reeling under the wave of terrifying emotions.

 _*Someone's in 'is mind,*_ Jono said, chilled by the memories flooding his mind. He tried desperately to block whoever had invaded Tavi's mind, but could not. He simply wasn't skilled enough.

"GO AWAY!" Tavi let loose a howl that sounded chillingly like a wounded animal and pressed his hands to his now-visible mongoose ears. The Image Inducer had failed inexplicably at the onset of the attack, drawing even more unwanted attention from the other diners.

Jean-Paul clearly heard the word _MUTIE_ from the table closest to them. It made him both angry and fearful. He exchanged a look with Jono that telegraphed his concern. Jono nodded, ready to act, to do whatever it took to protect Tavi from the very real threat the hostile crowd presented. They'd all seen how fast the mere presence of a mutant with obvious physical traits - even a child as young as Tavi - could whip up fear and violence in humans.

Remy held Tavi closer, stark fear showing plainly on the Cajun's face. The little boy was clearly suffering, and howled again, louder this time. Several large men stood at once and started to approach them.

"Jean-Paul, you gotta take him from here _now,_ " Remy whispered, sensing the mounting tension and aggression in the small restaurant. He hated how powerless he felt to stop this unknown and frightening attack on Tavi.

Jean-Paul tossed a hundred dollar bill on the table and lifted Tavi into his arms. He carried him outside, ignoring the stares and ugly comments from the other patrons as he stormed past them, Remy right behind him. Jono, watching their backs, turned at the door, made an obscene gesture, then peeled back just enough of the rubbery black bandage covering his face to give them a glimpse of his psionic fire. Sort of a final "fuck you" to the stunned crowd.

"I'll keep him safe," Jean-Paul reassured them. Once again, he handed Remy the keys to his car, then flew off in the direction of the school.

 _*Wot the flamin' fuck just 'appened?*_ Jono asked as he and Remy hurried to where the BMW was parked. He was clearly shaken by the episode, and the lingering images left behind in his mind. Images of Tavi, strapped to a table, wires and tubes running from his body, a shadowy figure towering over him. Tavi screaming in pain, rage and fear. Tortured. A little boy, subjected to that; it made Jono ill.

Remy was gritting his teeth, forcing himself to stay calm. He had seen someone in Tavi's thoughts as well, someone twisted and frightening and utterly evil, the same person Hank had seen when Tavi had healed him. Someone that Remy was all too familiar with, someone he had hoped never to see again: Dr. Nathaniel Essex. Mr. Sinister. He had done something to Tavi, and whatever it was, it was bad. Very bad.

"I'll tell you on de way dere," Remy said between his teeth. He unlocked the doors to the BMW, and slid behind the wheel, waited for Jono to climb in. He took a deep breath and turned in his seat to look at the younger man. "Dis some nasty business, homme."

 _*Yer gonna tell me what'n 'ell is goin' on, mate? I saw some terrible shit...*_

As they drove, Remy told him about Sinister, about what he'd suffered at the man's hands, the things he'd done, the massacre of the Morlocks. And now, for reasons he couldn't comprehend, the same son of a bitch had harmed Tavi, had left him terrified and emotionally scarred. It hurt, thinking of the horrors Tavi had been subjected to, what he'd been forced to endure, at Sinister's cruel hands. Remy knew all too well what that vicious madman was capable of; he'd done the same to Remy. And he'd been an adult when Sinister - under the guise of his alter-ego, Dr. Nathaniel Essex - had held him prisoner. Tavi was just a _child,_ and he had survived, a testament to his quiet strength.

 _*Yer figure maybe that's why our Tavi is the way 'e is? That this Sinister bastard did it to 'im? But wot for?*_

Remy shook his head. "Ain't no tellin' dat maniac's mind, cher. But whatever he did, we gotta undo it. Mais, I tell you, dat fucker did somet'ing evil to dat sweet little boy, an' I'm scared for him. Sinister gonna come back for him, Jono. He don't never let go, him. _Never_. Not 'til he gets what he wants."

Jono felt a rush of fear at the idea of Tavi falling back into the hands of that madman.

 _*Go. FASTER. We gotta get back. Gotta let the rest o' the team know, make sure Tavi is safe.*_


	5. Changes

"Where are dey?" Remy asked breathlessly as he burst into the central rec room where a few of his fellow X-Men had gathered for movie night: Ororo, Bobby, Logan, Warren, Rachel and Kurt. Startled, Storm looked up at Chamber and Gambit.

"Where are who?"

"Tavi and Jean-Paul!" Remy hissed. He felt his heart thudding wildly in his chest. There was no way they'd beaten Northstar back to the school. "Dey should be here by now!"

 _*Tavi...the lad had some sort o' psychic seizure…an attack...*_ Jono said. There was no mistaking the urgency in his telepathic voice. _*We went out fer supper, Tavi, Remy, me and Jean-Paul. Tavi was fine, then all of a sudden, 'e collapsed. Northstar, 'e took Tavi, was bringin' 'im back 'ere…*_

"It was Sinister," Remy said softly. He was clenching and unclenching his fists. "Whatever happened to Tavi, Sinister did it to him. He hurt my boy. And now, I t'ink he took him. Took dem bot'." It did not go unnoticed by any of them that Remy spoke of Tavi like a son; his love for the boy was obvious. And now the fear that he might have lost him to the same monster who had tortured him drove icy spears of panic into his heart.

Logan made a soft growling noise. Ever since Tavi had been brought to the school, something about the little mutant had resonated with him. "We'll find them." He turned to Rachel. "You hear anything, girl?"

The young telepath, powerful in her own right, was already scanning for any sign of either Jean-Paul or Tavi. After a moment, she gasped. "They're close, near the boathouse maybe? But something is wrong...something is very wrong. Northstar is...it's hard to read him...afraid, panicked. But Tavi is absolutely furious. Feral, almost. There's a third mind I'm picking up, but I can't read anything other than anger. Familiar, but I can't place him. Full of rage. He's going to kill Northstar!"

 _*Jean-Paul!*_ Jono shared a frightened look with Remy, then bolted for the door.

Logan jumped into action. He knew both Tavi and Jean-Paul's scents. If Rachel said they were close by, he'd be able to pick up a trail. It didn't take him long to locate their scents. And the third one...he knew it all too well: Victor Creed. Sabretooth. Logan was able to find them quickly. They were near the small lake on the school grounds, behind the boathouse. Jean-Paul lay crumpled on the ground, not moving, bleeding from numerous wounds. But what truly shocked the X-Men was that it was Tavi who was giving Creed the fight of his life.

Tavi was on Creed's back, making an odd, surprisingly loud clicking sound with his throat. His sharp little fangs were sunk deep into the bigger mutant's neck, while he used his claws to rake at Creed's back and sides, tearing flesh. Creed was trying desperately to dislodge him, in obvious pain, not just from the physical attack, but Tavi's powerful telepathic assault as well.

"YOU HURT MY FRIEND, YOU BASTARD!" Tavi shouted at Creed, stunning them all. This was a side of Tavi none of them had ever seen before. Gone was the shy, fearful boy. In his place was warrior. And he was _angry._ Tavi suddenly plunged all four of his spurs into Creed's body and flooded the big man with his powerful paralytic venom. Creed howled with rage before falling backwards on top of Tavi. Tavi grunted loudly.

"Tavi!" Remy cried, rushing to help him. With Logan and Bobby's help, he was able to pull the now-paralyzed body of the powerful mutant off the small boy. Tavi was barely conscious, and they could see now that he, too, had been lacerated by Creed's sharp claws: across his chest, both arms, his left cheek. Not understanding that the fight was over, Tavi bared his teeth at Logan and hissed, even took a weak swipe at him. Logan grabbed him by the arm, careful to avoid the boy's spurs; there was no telling if he was still capable of envenomating him.

"Stop, Tavi, settle down, fight's over...it's me, it's Logan."

"Logan…" Tavi sniffed, seemed to take in Logan's familiar scent, then sighed, before going limp again. Remy took him from Logan and began frantically assessing his injuries. They looked bad, but by some miracle, not too deep. Creed must not have wanted to wound him too badly, pulling his punches with the little mutant. It only seemed to prove Remy's belief that Sinister wanted Tavi alive.

Nearby, Chamber was kneeling beside Northstar. He'd pulled off his T-shirt and wadded it up, pressing it against the most severe of Jean-Paul's wounds, a deep laceration across his chest. He was covered in Beaubier's blood.

 _*It's gonna be alright, Mush,"_ Jono said, cradling Jean-Paul in his arms. He got no answer. _*Please, please talk to me! Ah God, Jean-Paul, please wake up!*_ Panicked, Jono reached out for help. _*STORM! Jean-Paul's in a real bad way, luv! We gorra get 'im outta 'ere, NOW!*_

"Angel!" Storm shouted. "Take Northstar...get him to Hank!"

"I'm on it!"

Warren swooped down beside the fallen speedster. Jean-Paul was alive, but barely breathing. He'd lost a lot of blood, and there was a serious bruise to the side of his head. Somehow, Creed had managed to ambush Jean-Paul while he was coming in for a landing.

 _*Be careful with 'im, mate, please, just please 'elp Jean-Paul!*_ Jono begged. His hands, slick with Jean-Paul's blood, were trembling.

Warren was surprised to hear the depth of emotion in the normally broody mutant's telepathic voice. For a moment, he wondered if something was going on between the two, but dismissed the notion just as quickly. Preposterous, the idea of the rough and tumble Cockney brawler involved with the elegantly handsome and arrogant French-Canadian.

"I'll get him right to Hank, don't you worry," Warren reassured him. The winged X-Man lifted Northstar's limp, bloody body into his arms and took to the air. Jono stood and glanced over at Remy. Reassured that Tavi was in good hands, he turned and ran toward the school.

"Tavi...S'il te plaît, mon fils, me parle!" Remy held him close, felt the reassuring rise and fall of his chest. Tavi opened his eyes, seemed to take a moment to focus on him.

"Poppa! Poppa!" Tavi cried, throwing his arms around Remy's neck. He wept in relief. "I'm sorry I'm so sorry Poppa, I didn't want to do that but he hurt Jean-Paul and there was so much blood and I was really scared! Did I kill him Poppa? Did I kill the monster? Señora Maria told me I wasn't ever supposed to kill nobody but I thought...I thought...oh Poppa!" he stopped, made a strange choking sound, unable to continue.

"Shhh...Poppa's right here, I got you, my brave, brave boy. It's alright, honey, you're alright. Shh, hush y'self now," Remy soothed the frightened boy, kissing his tears away. "Don't you worry, baby, Poppa's got you. Poppa's gonna get you home now."

Nightcrawler touched Remy on the arm. "I can get you both back quickly. Hold on." With a *bamf* and a cloud of brimstone, they were gone, teleported by the German mutant directly to the Med Lab, where Hank was already attending to Jean-Paul's wounds.

"Put him on the other table, Kurt! Annie, I've got Northstar. You see to Tavi!" McCoy barked. He was busy trying to stabilize Jean-Paul, pushing packed red blood cells into him to replace what he'd lost in his desperate fight with Sabretooth. If not for Jean-Paul's excellent physical condition, and Jono's quick intervention, the shock and blood loss would have killed him.

"I'm alright, it isn't that bad," Tavi protested weakly. He kept looking at Jean-Paul. "I can help him, Poppa! _Please!_ " He looked at Remy, pleading. "I can make him better, Poppa, I can!"

"No, Tavi. You are too hurt for any of dat," Remy said, firm. "Please, son, just let Annie help you. You need to lie still now, baby."

"Don't be scared, Tavi," Annie soothed, stroking his arm. He needed an IV in order to deliver medication and fluids, but there was no way she was going to be able to get one started while he was so agitated. "It's alright, sweetheart. Everything is going to be alright, I promise."

"But Jean-Paul…" Tavi cried. Tears welled up in his eyes. His face was ghostly pale, except for two hectic spots of color on his cheeks . "There is so much blood, Poppa! This is all my fault!" He took a deep, hitching breath, tipped his head back and wailed out his guilt and grief. " _My fault! I...I'm a bad boy a very BAD BOY! I'm Nobody!"_ Tavi began beating his fists against his head. " _NOBODY!"_

"No, Tavi, don't you say dat! Honey, you did _not'ing_ wrong!" Afraid Tavi was going to hurt himself, Remy took Tavi's small hands in his. "It's alright, baby, Poppa is right here!"

Tavi would not be comforted. He wailed again and actually fought to free himself from Remy. Remy almost crushed Tavi to him, rocking him, desperate to comfort the hysterical boy. After everything, Tavi had finally reached his breaking point. He began to howl, all that pain and anguish.

"Tavi," McCoy called over his shoulder. "Jean-Paul is going to be just fine, so please, young man, you must calm down and let Annie see to your injuries." He looked right at Tavi, let the boy read his thoughts, see that he was telling the truth. "You saved his life, Tavi. Now let us help _you,_ alright?"

"Listen to Hank, liebchen," Kurt soothed, stroking Tavi's forehead. Tavi was no longer howling, but he was still breathing too hard, quick gasping breaths punctuated by sobs. Kurt looked up at Remy, saw how distraught he was. "Be calm for him, mein freund," Kurt said softly.

Remy took a deep breath and dropped his shields, allowing his empathic powers to wrap Tavi like a warm blanket. He spoke to him in a low, soothing voice, holding him close, kissing away his tears. Slowly, Tavi's sobs tapered off and he collapsed, exhausted, against Remy's chest. Annie swooped in and, while Remy held him, she tended to his wounds. Kurt, assured that both Tavi and Jean-Paul were going to be alright, went off to relay the news to Storm and the others.

In the secure area of the school's basement, in a holding cell, lay Sabretooth, shackled down just in case Tavi's venom wore off without warning.

"Man, I can't believe Tavi took big bad Sabretooth out all by himself," Bobby said as he knelt down beside the conscious but paralyzed man. The only thing the ferocious mutant could do was move his eyes and breathe; so far he had said nothing, however. Bobby knew he was pissed as hell, and no way was the Iceman going to let an opportunity like this pass.

"What's it feel like to get your ass handed to you by a little kid, Creed? I mean, what's he weigh? 50...60 pounds, tops?" Bobby grinned and shook his head. "I'm glad I got the chance to see it."

"Fuck you, asshole," Creed growled. Bobby just laughed.

Logan crouched down beside his old foe and put his face close to his. "What does Sinister want with the kid, Creed?" he growled. "Why'd he have you try to grab him?"

Creed sneered, revealing those wicked, sharp fangs of his that had earned him the name Sabretooth. "Who says I'm here on that motherfucker's business?" He laughed bitterly. "You dumb assholes have no idea how dangerous that kid is."

"Well, he took you down pretty easy, so I'd say he's dangerous. To you, anyway," Logan said, trying to stay focused. After seeing the ease with which Tavi had put down Creed, it made him feel strangely unsettled. And Creed had just confirmed for Logan his own fears: that Tavi was much more than he appeared to be.

Logan knew Creed well enough to know when the man wasn't bullshitting him. "What do you know about all this, then?" When he refused to answer, Logan gave him a hard shake. "You can tell me, or you can tell SHIELD. Choice is yours."

Creed grunted. "Sinister snatched the kid from the Weapon X facility a couple years ago. Recognized some serious killer potential in the crazy brat. He's like a junior version of you and me, Logan; carries genetic material from both of us, ya know, so he's a dangerous little fucker in his own right. Bet his DNA is mighty interesting." He coughed, hard, as if trying to clear his lungs.

"Course, the little freak can crawl in your mind and fuck ya up that way, too. And then there's that fucking venom." Creed paused and coughed again. A little blood leaked from his nose. "Sinister knew how deadly this kid would get as he got older, so he controlled his growth. Let him get to the point that his powers just started to kick in, then stopped it cold. Monthly 'treatments' of some kind kept him from growing up."

"You ain't a Psi," Logan growled. "How the hell were you able to get in the kid's head, get him to come back to the school so you could jump him and Northstar?"

Creed looked confused. "I didn't. I had no idea that fucking French fairy was bringing the brat back to the school. Came outta nowhere. I took ole mapleleaf down quick, but the kid...he went nuts. He's fucking insane."

Logan looked skeptical, but didn't argue with Creed. "You're saying the kid knew you were coming for him?"

"Either that or Sinister had something to do with it. Maybe he thought it would be amusing to sic his pet monster on me. Maybe it was a test run, you ever think of that? Could be this whole thing is a setup. Who knows? No guessing Sinister's motivations about anything."

Logan frowned. He'd considered the very same possibility. There was just something too convenient about the whole situation.

Bobby shook his head in stunned disbelief. "And the circus? Explain _that_ to me, genius. How does that work out in Sinister's grand scheme of things? What, did he just find it amusing or something, giving him to some broke-ass circus to be put on display as a _freak?_ That's just messed up."

"Psychological conditioning," Creed growled. "Ya know, torture. The asshole who ran that circus controlled the kid with fear and abuse. He'd withhold food and water from him, beat him...hell, you found him in a cage, didn't ya? That shit kept the kid weak and too fucking _scared_ to defend himself. Add a little of Sinister's own special brand of mind-fuck to the mix, too, and you got yourself one compliant little monster in the making. Who knows what that crazy son of a bitch did to him when he brought him back to his lab once a month." Creed shut his eyes and took a deep breath. He seemed on the verge of passing out.

Logan shook him again. "Tell me the rest. I know you got more to say."

Creed actually laughed at that. He had a hell of a lot more to say; he just wasn't sure if he had the strength to continue. He was struggling to stay conscious. "Ya know why Sinister fucked with the kid's aging process? Because he knew that once his little pet hit puberty, he wouldn't be able to control him anymore. He'd be too strong. But now that you assholes have him, he's gonna start growing up. _Fast._ And then you are gonna have a really big fucking problem on your hands."

Bobby frowned and looked at Logan. Logan was staring at Creed hard.

"So just who did send you after Tavi, if it wasn't Sinister?"

"No one." Creed looked away. "Just don't want to inflict another one of _us_ on the world."

"I find that mighty hard to believe, bub," Logan hissed, his face just inches from Creed's. "You ain't the altruistic kind. And if you're that concerned about him, why didn't you just kill him when you had the chance?"

Creed smiled. "I can't kill him. No one can, I bet, not without some serious ordnance. He's a Genocide Machine."

"Fuck me," Logan whispered. He'd heard that term before, rumors mostly, something associated with the Weapon X program. "That's how you found out about him, isn't it?"

"Something like that," Creed smiled bitterly. "Just wait until his programming catches up with him. You know, when he grows the fuck up, which he's doing _right now._ Aging _fast_. He'll be an adult and into his full powers within two or three years, and then what the fuck are ya gonna do? Ya don't know the half of what he can do. What he'll be _able_ to do if he isn't stopped." He shut his eyes and sighed heavily. "It ain't what ya think, Logan. Ya got it all wrong. I didn't wanna kill him. I wanted to _save_ him."

Logan rocked back on his heels. He had an odd expression on his face, one Bobby didn't recognize at first. He wasn't used to seeing it from the older man. Finally, Bobby understood what it was: fear. Logan was _afraid._ Of a child. And that, to Bobby, was the most chilling thing of all.

Back at McCoy's lab, Logan shared what he'd learned from Creed.

"Weapon X? Genocide Machine? This is a lot to process right now," Hank said, rubbing his face. He looked tired. His gaze flicked to where both of his patients lay, healing. Remy was with Tavi, dozing in a chair beside his hospital bed. Jono was at Jean-Paul's side, holding his hand and speaking to him in his soft, telepathic voice. Trying to wake him from his coma, Hank supposed. He'd noticed tears slipping down Jono's face earlier, but when Jono had noticed Hank looking, he quickly, almost angrily, wiped them away.

Jean-Paul's injuries were much worse than Tavi's, but the blow he'd taken to the head was particularly concerning, and he had yet to regain consciousness. Though Tavi's wound's were less severe, Hank had thought it best to use a powerful sedative on the boy. After running further tests on Tavi, he'd reluctantly decided to keep him chemically restrained, at least until they had more answers. He had to keep pumping the sedatives into Tavi, because his healing factor, faster and stronger now, was counteracting the medication. Even the wounds he'd suffered during his fight with Sabretooth were nearly healed. The rapid increase in Tavi's powers was a cause for concern now that his secret had been revealed.

"Do you believe what Creed told you?"

"Yeah, I do, actually," Logan said softly, not wanting the others to overhear him. "And I get the feelin' you're about to tell me some shit I don't wanna hear."

Hank nodded. "I re-ran all of Tavi's blood work. Very interesting. First of all, Creed was telling the truth; Tavi does, indeed, have specific DNA sequences from both of you. But half of his chromosomes come directly from Remy. Technically speaking, Tavi is Remy's son. No idea how the Weapon X program got a hold of his DNA. I doubt Remy does, either. But you know quite well how they operate. Perhaps Sinister provided them with it."

Logan was shocked. "You're kidding me. Does Gumbo know?"

Hank nodded somberly. "I've told him, although I think Remy already knew; he didn't seem the least bit surprised. He was quite pleased, actually." He paused and sipped from a large mug of his infamous coffee, which he drank scalding hot and insanely strong.

"Tavi's got his same feline muscle to bone ratio, same heightened spatial awareness and night vision," Hank went on. "Except that where Remy is an empath, Tavi is a telepath...an emerging Omega level one, at that." He sighed heavily. "There's more: he's got your enhanced senses. Your healing factor, too. Slower than yours, because he's just a juvenile, but it's getting better, faster." Hank paused and smiled wanly. "Oh, and he can heal others, as well. He is, in fact, a very powerful healer, as I myself have experienced."

Logan's eyes narrowed. "Has he figured out yet that there's a dark side to being able to heal?"

"I don't know. If not, he will eventually. He'll discover that it's just as easy to break a bone as it is to mend it. And his venom is changing, too. It's developing neurotoxic properties. It's quite amazing that Creed is still alive, actually. He got a full dose."

"Jesus Christ," Logan muttered, stunned by it all. "How the hell did a kid from Brittany end up in the Weapon X program?"

"Because that's not where he's from. It's artificial memory. He was born in a lab, Logan. Not to be crude, but Tavi started life in a petri dish. However, Remy is, for all intents and purposes, his father. It would be interesting to see where they got the second set of chromosomes. Perhaps the reason my initial tests showed that he is from that region of France is because that is where his mother - whoever she might be - is from. Who knows? As I first said, he's quite the little mystery."

"Is he as dangerous as Creed claims?" Logan asked.

Hank grimaced. "Potentially? Yes." He paused and looked away for a moment. "I'm keeping him heavily sedated for now. I've called Emma Frost; she's on her way to see if she can help unlock the enigma that is this boy. And maybe, by some miracle, we can fix him." Hank paused. "Until then, all we have is this, just in case." He handed Logan a small tranquilizer gun. "Something I've been working on. This is powerful enough to render Tavi completely unconscious, and keep him that way until the antidote is delivered. I must stress, my dear friend, that it is only to be used as a last resort. There is always a risk using an untested compound. I just pray we never have to."

Emma Frost. The White Queen. Doyenne of couture dominatrix fashion. One of the world's most powerful telepaths. When Hank McCoy had contacted her with the information about Tavi, she'd been immediately intrigued. And worried. If what McCoy had told her was true, the sooner she helped unlock Tavi's programming - and stop it - the better. She'd heard rumors of the offshoot Weapon X program code-named Genocide Machine. If Tavi was a successful product of that program...the implications were frightening.

They might have to kill him, before he could grow to his full potential. The thought made her cold inside, and she pushed it down deep, not wanting anyone to know that she considered murdering a child an actual possibility.

When Emma entered the Med Lab, escorted by McCoy and Logan, she couldn't hide her shock at the sight of the little mutant, lying so still in a medically-induced coma, a stuffed toy tucked under his arm. He was such a sweet-looking boy; it was hard to imagine that this small being had taken down Sabretooth. _Unbelievable_ , Emma thought.

Remy was at Tavi's side; he hadn't left once, not even for a moment. He didn't want to take the chance that Tavi might wake while he was gone. It had taken time and some pretty strong sedatives to calm him down. Remy had held Tavi's hand the whole time, cooing to him softly in French while Annie had cleaned and dressed his wounds.

Despite Hank's reassurances that it was safest for Tavi to keep him heavily sedated, Remy was clearly upset by it, and it showed in the way he glared at Emma when she moved beside Tavi's bed. Normally, Remy's mind was well-shielded from unwanted intrusions, thanks to his mutant ability to create and control kinetic energy. But because he was using his skills as an empath to weave a cocoon of love and safety around Tavi, it left him vulnerable to prying, something Emma wasn't opposed to.

As tempting as it was to take a peek inside Remy's mind, Emma decided it probably wasn't a good idea. Remy was angered by her presence, and made no effort to conceal the fact. It probably didn't help that she was wearing her usual scanty, all-white ensemble: tightly-laced corset, hip-hugging shorts that barely covered her ass and thigh-high boots with ridiculous 4-inch stiletto heels . While Remy was no prude - far from it, in fact - he scowled at her choice of attire, thinking it inappropriate for her to be dressed in such way around his young son.

Across from Tavi's bed, where Jean-Paul was just starting to wake from his coma, Jono sat still, watching Emma closely. He knew her well - had studied under her at the Massachusetts Academy while still with Generation X. Emma had been the first to teach Jono how to shield his thoughts, the first to reveal to him that he was potentially an Omega-level telepath like herself. Jono hadn't taken any of it seriously at the time; he'd still been in his angry brooding stage. Now, knowing that Emma was about to infiltrate Tavi's mind, without warning and without his permission, it made Jono nervous.

"I don't like dis, not one bit, and I'm sure you know why," Remy said as Emma stood looking down at Tavi. There was no mistaking the edgy, almost threatening tone of his voice. He and Emma had clashed before, when she'd tried to explore his mind without his permission.

Emma gave him a small, humorless smile. She hadn't forgotten the incident, either, nor how surprised she'd been when Remy had successfully knocked her right out of his head. It had surprised her, that an empath had been able to do that to her; she'd always dismissed them as second-class Psis. There was still bad blood between them over it, especially because Remy, being Remy, had crowed a little about it. And Emma, with her imperious, ego-driven need to dominate, resented him deeply for it, even though the fault had entirely been her's for crossing that line in the first place.

"I'm sorry, Remy," Emma said, looking down her nose at him. "But this is no time to allow your emotions to override necessity. The boy is..."

" _De boy's_ name is Tavi," Remy snapped. "And _my son_ ain't no killer, Mam'selle Frost, no matter what Creed says. I ain't real comfortable about you pokin' around in his head wit'out his say." He hovered over Tavi. It was obvious how upset he was with the way the whole situation had devolved. Remy glanced over at Jono. He could sense the young Brit's unease, and knew they shared the same concerns about Emma's plan to probe Tavi's mind. Jono met Remy's gaze and nodded.

 _*If yer wanna put a stop to it, Remy, yer know I'll stand wif yer,*_ Jono sent privately to Remy.

 _*Merci, Jono. I ain't gonna let them hurt my son. I'll take him away from here if I have to,*_ Remy sent back to him. Jono nodded again, then, hearing Jean-Paul groan softly, turned his attention back to him.

Remy gazed down at Tavi and gently stroked his cheek. There was no denying the fierce love Remy had for the little boy. When Hank had given Remy the news - that Tavi was his son - it hadn't surprised him at all. Part of him had known all along that Tavi was his, that their connection had been something more than just chance. And he was certain Tavi knew, as well. That moment when Tavi had thrown himself into Remy's arms and called him Poppa...it was a memory that he would cherish always. Remy would do anything for Tavi, would gladly sacrifice his own life, would even kill for him, if that's what it took to protect him.

"I wouldn't allow this if I didn't think it was necessary, Remy," Hank said, pleading with the young Cajun to trust them. "We're all working to help him. Please, Remy, let us try. I promise, no one is going to harm him."

With McCoy's reassurance, Remy gave his grudging approval. He looked at Emma with hard, narrowed eyes. "See you treat him wit' care, you. If I t'ink for even a second dat you hurtin' him, I _will_ stop you, tu sais?"

Emma bit back a nasty retort and forced a smile. She placed her hand on Tavi's forehead and seemed to study him for a moment. Carefully, she reached out and began probing his mind.

 _*Tavi...my name is Emma. You need to tell me some things, answer some questions…"_

Tavi's eyes flew open. He was under attack by an unknown entity. In that moment, he changed. His pupils were fully dilated; they looked like two big black orbs surrounded by slender halos of gold. He flattened his ears back, and began making that strange clicking sound with his throat. His lips curled back from his sharp, weasel teeth and he hissed at her.

 _*GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT!*_

The strength of Tavi's telepathic "push" sent Emma stumbling backwards. Before she even hit the floor, Tavi was on top of her, right hand to her throat, the left at her face, spur extended and pointed at her eye.

"YOU STAY OUT OF MY HEAD, MINDWHORE!" Tavi screamed. His left hand, made into a fist, trembled, and a drop of venom splashed onto her cheek, burning her. Unable to shift to her diamond form, Emma couldn't move, could barely breathe. Tavi had complete control of her, although just who had control of _him_ was another matter entirely. The sweet, shy boy was gone again, replaced by a stranger.

"Tavi, honey, let her go!" Remy cried, reaching for him. He tried picking the boy up, but Tavi, having been thrust into a mindless, feral rage by Emma's aggressive telepathic intrusion, launched Remy at the wall using his previously unmanifested telekinetic power. Remy struck his head against the hard steel and slumped to the floor. Tavi then turned his attention on Hank and Logan.

 _*GO TO SLEEP!*_ With that telepathic command, Tavi took them out, rendering both unconscious with frightening ease.

 _*Tavi, pet, yer need ter stop.*_

Tavi's head slung sideways, and he stared at Jono with feral eyes. He was actually drooling. Jono could smell the sharp, musky odor he was putting off.

 _*It's orright, lad. Yer just calm down, now.*_ Jono had his eyes locked with Tavi's. He kept his movements slow, deliberate, careful.

Tavi's eyes narrowed, and he cocked his head to the side. He seemed to be trying to remember something. Then, his expression changed from one of pure, white anger, to recognition, then, finally, to fear. Not for himself, but for Jono.

 _*Jono? Don't come any closer, Jono. It isn't safe. I'm afraid I might hurt you.*_

Jono took a tentative step towards him, palms up in a submissive gesture.

 _*I know yer ain't gonna 'urt me, Tavi, me little luv.*_

 _*I'm scared...I'm so scared, Jono. I don't want to hurt_ _ **anybody**_ _.*_ Tavi looked down at his hands, flushing deeply. He was clearly ashamed at what he had done.

 _*Yer don't gorra be scared anymore, Tavi. Will yer let me in, lad? Will yer let me 'elp yer?*_

Tavi leaned back and sheathed his spur. Tears were rolling down his face as he surveyed the damage he had done. " _Jono! What did I do what did I DO?"_ Tavi cried, leaping off Emma. Then he saw Remy, lying unconscious on the floor, and for a moment, Jono thought Tavi was going to faint. "POPPA POPPA OH NOOOOOOOOO!" Tavi looked wild with guilt and impotent rage.

 _*Easy now, lad, yer gorra calm down now.*_ Jono took another step toward Tavi then, in one quick motion, pulled him into his arms and held him close. _*Don't yer be scared. Yer know what ter do, pet, dontcha now? Yer gorra make it right. I know yer can do it, Tavi. Go on, now, luv.*_

Tavi took a deep breath and nodded. He wiped his eyes and went to work. First, Remy. Gently, Tavi took Remy's face between his hands and poured everything he had into the man who was his father in both heart and blood. After a moment, Remy's eyes opened. Tavi wept with joy.

"Poppa...I'm so sorry, Poppa, I'm so sorry…" Tavi whispered, covering Remy's face in kisses and tears. Remy held him close.

"Not'in' you need to be sorry for, petit. Dat woman shouldn'ta gone messin' in your head wit'out your permission," Remy whispered. "We gonna work on dis, I promise. Now you be my brave boy, and go see to de ot'ers, Tavi."

Tavi nodded. He went to Hank next, then Logan and Emma, waking them from the telepathic sleep he had put them in. Finally, Tavi stood over Jean-Paul.

"I'm sorry for you most of all, Jean-Paul," Tavi whispered. "I made you land when I 'heard' Sabretooth. I thought he was going to hurt our friends. I didn't mean for _you_ to get hurt. Will you let me help you?"

Jean-Paul smiled at him. He understood how important it was for Tavi to do this. "Oui...but only if you are up to it, mon chou."

"I can do this," Tavi said, then pressed his palms to the speedster's chest. A warm glow emanated from his hands, spreading across Beaubier's body and healing his wounds as much as he was able to. Exhausted, Tavi collapsed on top of Jean-Paul, who held the boy in his trembling arms.

No one spoke. No one even moved for a while, just watched Tavi and Jean-Paul embrace. Then, finally, Tavi broke free from Jean-Paul's arms and stepped away from his bed. He looked tired and sad, but determined, too.

"Do it," Tavi said softly, looking pointedly at Logan. "While you still can."

 _*Tavi NO!*_ Jono, having picked up on Tavi's intention, reached for him. He almost managed to snatch Tavi clear, but wasn't quick enough.

Logan shot Tavi with the tranquilizer gun, the one McCoy had been working on, the one designed specifically to take the boy down. Without a sound, Tavi sank to the floor. Remy seemed frozen in place, as if he couldn't process what had just happened, that one of his own teammates had just shot his little boy.

 _*Fuck me sideways!*_ Jono stared at Logan, stunned. _*Wot the 'ell did yer just do, man?*_

" _Tabarnak!_ " Jean-Paul hissed under his breath, both furious and frightened. He got out of bed and stood, tense, beside Starsmore. Still a little weak, Jean-Paul swayed a bit. Jono flashed him a look of concern and took hold of his elbow, steadying him.

* _Easy now, me pet, I gotcha.*_

" _TAVI!"_ Remy cried, snapping out of his shocked silence. He knelt down beside Tavi's limp body and held him close, listening for the sound of his breathing, the beat of his heart, and was rewarded with both. A wave of relief hit him hard; he'd thought Logan had killed Tavi, that he'd just witnessed the death of his child. He unleashed his rage on the older man. " _You son of a bitch!"_

"It had to be done," Logan snapped. "He's just too dangerous right now."

Remy had to fight the urge to charge the first thing he could get his hands on and blast Logan with kinetic energy. "I told you it was a bad idea, crawling up in Tavi's mind wit'out askin' him! None of dis woulda happened if you had listened to me!" He stood, shifting himself sideways so that Tavi was protected by his own body. " _You all stay de fuck away from my son!"_

"Remy...you can't take him," Hank said softly, touching Remy's tensed arm.

"Ne me touche pas!" Remy hissed, pulling his arm away. Behind him, Jono and Jean-Paul stood in solidarity with him. "Try and stop _us_. You just _try._ "

"Gambit...give Hank the kid," Logan warned. Remy turned on him with fury in his eyes.

"Tavi's my _son_! You can't have him! I won't let you take him, Logan, not you or anybody else, y'hear me?" Remy held Tavi as close as he could, arms wrapped tight around the boy's limp body, protecting him from any further attempts to harm or take him.

Logan growled at him. "Just because some asshole at a lab stole your DNA and used it to make themselves a miniature killing machine doesn't make him your fucking son."

* _Nah! Bloody sod that, y'fuckin' gobshite!*_ Jono 'shouted' with his telepathic voice. At the end of his patience, furious at what he'd just witnessed, Jono was ready to kick someone's ass. _*I'll fuck yer up real good, Logan, see if I won't, y'soddin' bastard! Don't matter 'ow the lad got made! Tavi's Remy's boy, 'is own flesh and blood!*_ Jono made an obscene gesture with both hands and squared his shoulders, his body set in a fighter's stance. He positively radiated lethality. Jean-Paul looked at Jono with renewed admiration for the young man's selfless bravery.

"You will not take him, Remy," Emma said, firm, ignoring Jono for the moment. "You don't know what he really is, any of you." She then glared at her former student, angry that he'd had the audacity to challenge them. The young Brit shot her an ugly look right back. "I'll put you down myself, Jono, if you force my hand. I _can_ and _will_ stop you from taking that very dangerous child from here. Don't push your luck."

 _*The bloody 'ell yer will! And yer don't know shite about noffin', Emma Frost! Yer just pissed off 'cause Tavi put YOU down. Now I know yer know what_ _**I**_ _can do. Don't push yer luck wif ME!*_ Jono reached up and pulled back the bandage from his mouth, just enough to give her a glimpse of the psionic fire that burned there, a reminder of his immense power.

Emma's formidable ego had been severely damaged by Tavi's attack, and she was _angry._ She stormed over to Remy and actually tried to pull Tavi from his arms, knowing full well that Remy wouldn't let loose one of his kinetic charges for fear of accidentally harming the defenseless boy.

Remy used his shoulder to knock Emma back. He bared his teeth at her.

"Si tu touches mon fils encore, je te tuerai," _If you touch my son again, I will kill you_ Remy warned. Jono and Jean-Paul closed ranks beside him.

"I would not do that again if I were you, Emma," Jean-Paul snapped, fists raised, light sparking from them. Still weak from his life-or-death fight with Sabretooth, he was struggling to maintain his power levels. "If Monsieur LeBeau wishes to take _his son_ someplace safe - someplace where neither you, nor this fucking maniac here," he hooked his thumb in Logan's direction, "can ever hurt Tavi again - then you had best let him do so."

"Or what?" Emma shot back, furious. She fought the urge to telepathically slam Jean-Paul right back into a coma. She could do it, too, and Jean-Paul knew she could, not that he was going to let that stop him from protecting Remy and Tavi.

"Or I'll show you how hard it is to breathe at 30,000 feet, _Madame,_ " Jean-Paul drawled. "It would take me less than thirty seconds to fly you to that altitude."

"Shut the fuck up, fancy boy, this ain't none of your business!" Logan growled, popping his claws as he advanced on the speedster. He knew Jean-Paul was bluffing, that he was still too weak to defend himself, much less carry out his threat. "Back off now before I ventilate your ass."

For Jono, knowing how weak and vulnerable Jean-Paul still was, Wolverine's threat against his friend infuriated him. He stepped quickly between the two of them and yanked down his bandage mask, revealing his immense power.

 _*Sod off and shut yer gob, y'mad fuckin' tosser! Yer don't talk to me mate like that, yer get me? Yer want 'im, yer gonna 'ave ter get by me first, ain't yer!"_

Jean-Paul was stunned by Jono's willingness to put himself in harm's way to protect him. He touched Jono's shoulder, was surprised by the heat radiating from his skin like a furnace.

"Jono…"

 _*Don't yer worry, luv, I got this,*_ Jono sent to Jean-Paul privately. He kept his attention focused on Wolverine. _*Back off, Logan.*_

"You don't want to start shit with me, kid," Logan shot back.

 _*Nah! Blow it out yer bloody arse, y'miserable twat!*_ Jono was dancing from foot to foot like some gothic back-alley brawler, itching for a fight. His psionic fire crackled, burning white hot. _*C'mon old man, 'ow about you n' me go a round or two, see who comes out on top?*_

Logan tensed, crouched, prepared to lunge.

And then, like a crack of thunder, a voice: "ENOUGH! All of you...STAND DOWN!" It was Hank, and he was clearly angry that the situation had devolved to the point where X-Men were threatening X-Men. "Logan, back off. NOW. I gave you that tranquilizer in case Tavi _was out of control._ You should not have used it on him, regardless of what he wanted." McCoy took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes. He turned and looked at Remy.

"I'm sorry, Remy. This should not have happened; none of this should have happened. But please, don't take him away. He needs our help. We need to work together if we're to save your son." Hank was careful to stress that he understood and accepted Remy and Tavi's relationship. "Please, now. Please trust me."

Remy scowled and pulled Tavi closer to his chest. "Why should I ever trust you again, eh? _You_ made dat poison, meant it for just _my_ _son,_ an' _you_ let Logan use it to put Tavi down like he's some rabid dog! _He's just a little boy, you bastards!_ " Remy shook his head, angrier than he'd ever been before. "He been treated like an animal his whole little life, ain't nobody loved him, tortured by Sinister and locked in a cage at a damned circus! I know what dat's like, t'inking nobody want you, dat you don't matter, dat you some kind of monster! _I love him, and not you or anybody else ever gonna hurt him again!_ "

"Lovely 'family' you have here, Remy," Jean-Paul snarled. "First they abandon you in Antarctica to die, and then they use a fucking tranquilizer gun on your son _."_ He turned and looked at Hank, truly angry now. "What is next, Henri? Euthanasia? Is that what the X-Men do, now? _Kill children_? _Crisse!_ "

Emma flinched noticeably and looked away, wondering for a moment if Northstar had somehow picked up on her fleeting thoughts about doing just that. She started to reach out, to take a peek inside his head to see if he knew. She stopped herself, knowing that it might only escalate the situation again.

"It was never meant to be used like this," Hank whispered. "Never." He reached out and touched Remy's arm again. "I've got an antidote. He's in no danger, I assure you."

"We're the ones in danger," Emma snapped. Jean-Paul actually drew back his arm to strike her, then thought better of it. Still, it would have been so very satisfying.

Jono replaced his mask and nudged Jean-Paul with his elbow. _*Seems there's this stink 'ere I can't get outta me nose, eh mate?*_

Jean-Paul gave an amused little snort of laughter, enjoying the look on Emma's face. Beaubier found the woman offensive in so many ways, starting with her ridiculous habit of wearing barely-there fetish gear all the way and up to her unethical practice of intruding, unwanted and uninvited, into people's private thoughts. She was almost as bad as Psylocke in that regards.

"I want everyone out of my lab," Hank snapped. "Except you, Remy. And you two," he looked pointedly at Jono and Jean-Paul. "Go wait in the other room. I'll fetch you if I need you. Miss Frost, Logan...GO. Now."

Logan grumbled under his breath, but sheathed his claws and left, cursing as he went. After a moment, Emma followed, tail between her legs. Once they were gone, Jean-Paul and Jono did as they were told, and left McCoy alone with Tavi and Remy.

"Whatcha gonna do?" Remy asked, still suspicious. He wasn't about to let go of Tavi, not until he had some reassurance that his son was in no further danger.

"Give him that antidote, for starters. You can hold him while I do, Remy." McCoy held up a syringe. "I promise. This will reverse the effects of the tranquilizer."

Remy nodded sharply. "You best not be lyin' to me, McCoy. You hurt him again, and I _will_ kill you."

Hank sighed, then injected Tavi. After several tense moments, Tavi began to stir. He sighed heavily and then, without warning, vomited. Remy quickly laid him down on the closest exam table and rolled him on his side, watching helplessly as his poor son continued to retch miserably.

"Poppa…" Tavi rasped, reaching blindly for Remy. He groaned loudly and vomited again. It was heartbreaking for Remy to watch Tavi's delicate body wracked by abdominal spasms.

"Easy now, petit, your Poppa is here, right here, shh...you gonna be alright honey," Remy soothed, stroking Tavi's back. He looked up at Hank, worry written clearly on his face. "Is dis normal? Dat he should get so sick?"

"I'm afraid so. He'll be fine in a little while. Just give it some time, let his body recover. Poor little child has had a hell of a day, wouldn't you agree?" Hank said, wiping Tavi's sweaty brow with a wet cloth. Remy actually smiled a little; there was no denying the affection in McCoy's voice.

"You swear to me, Henri, dat you won't let nobody hurt him again?" Remy asked, pleading with Hank for reassurance. "He been t'rough so goddamn _much."_ He swiped at his eyes, angry with his own tears.

Hank gave him a gentle smile. "I swear to you, Remy, no harm will come to your son, not from me or anyone else. Just, forgive me. I never meant for any of this to happen."

"I know," Remy sighed. He looked down at Tavi, who was beginning to come around. "Easy dere, petit, it's alright. Let me help you." Carefully, he lifted the trembling boy into a sitting position so he could sip from a cup of water that Hank offered.

"Tavi, I am very sorry for all of this," Hank started. Tavi laid his small hand on Hank's.

"So am I," Tavi whispered. "I don't want to be bad. I don't want to hurt anybody. Please, will you help me?"

Hank felt tears sting his eyes. "Of course I will. And I promise you, Tavi, that no one will trespass against you, ever again." He picked up Tavi's stuffed hedgehog, the one Remy had bought for him, and handed it to him. "Things will get better, Tavi. I know it may not seem like it sometimes, and there will be days when you will get frustrated. But have patience, my boy. I have all the faith in the world that you will overcome any challenges you may face."

Tavi smiled shyly and took the proffered toy. "Merci, Dr. Hank," he sighed. As he hugged his "Hedgie" to him, Hank couldn't help but realize just how achingly young Tavi really was. Despite having been denied a real childhood, after suffering some of the most cruel and inhuman treatment at the hands of others, he was still just a very sweet, very vulnerable little boy.

Tavi looked up at Remy. "I'm tired, Poppa." He rubbed his eyes and yawned. "Do I have to sleep here? I don't wanna be alone."

Remy looked at Hank. Hank smiled. "I think that a good night's sleep in a real bed is probably the best medicine you could have. And you won't be alone; your Poppa will be there with you." He paused and seemed to consider his next words. "Perhaps it would be best, Remy, if you two stayed in the Boathouse? At least for a while?"

"You got a point," Remy said, acknowledging Hank's unspoken meaning: keep Tavi somewhere away from the others until he had better control of his powers. Remy wrapped a blanket around Tavi and lifted the sleepy boy into his strong embrace. Tavi slung his arm around Remy's neck, laying his head on his shoulder. In his other arm, held tight, was his Hedgie. He sighed heavily and snuggled in close to Remy.

"So what now, ami?" Jean-Paul asked as Remy joined them in the small waiting room. He was dressed only in a pair of surgical scrub pants, his bare chest swathed in bandages. Despite Tavi's help, his wounds would need time to fully heal. Jono, still wound up from the confrontation with Logan and Emma, was pacing back and forth.

"Me an' Tavi, we gonna stay in de Boathouse for now," Remy said. "Safer dere, I s'pose." Remy gave a sad little smile and pressed his cheek to Tavi's head. Tavi made a sleepy, contented sound in response.

Jono stopped pacing and gave Remy a pointed look. _*Yer want some company, Rems?*_ He asked. His offer was for more than just companionship; he didn't like them staying at the Boathouse alone, vulnerable, separated from the rest of the X-Men. He wanted to be near them both, to help keep them safe.

Remy nodded, understanding. "Oui, I would. How 'bout you, Jean-Paul? You wanna come stay wit' de rest of us bachelors?"

"Crisse!" Jean-Paul sighed dramatically, then smiled. "I suppose I should. I imagine there are a couple of people here who might just try to kill me in my sleep after that little bit of drama."

"Heh! Dat would probably be for de best, cher. I'm pretty sure Her Frozen Highness has her mad up real high right now." Remy flashed him a wicked grin. Jean-Paul gave a surprised little snort of laughter.

 _*Sod that frostbitten tart right in 'er ear,*_ Jono grumbled.

"Mmm...non. Not even if I was straight as an arrow would I go there," Jean-Paul retorted with an exaggerated toss of his head. Jono slapped his hand to his forehead in mock disgust. Jean-Paul laughed again.

"Shh...don't wake him," Remy whispered. He fought the desire to just throw his head back and roar with laughter. He supposed it was the after-effects of all the adrenaline that had surged through his body just minutes before. Tavi snored loudly and shifted restlessly in his arms. Remy kissed the top of his head. "I gotta get dis petit to bed. Would you two watch Tavi for a bit while I go get some of our t'ings?"

 _*Give 'im over, Rems.*_ Jono said, looking with obvious love at the sleeping boy.

Remy smiled; it pleased him how much Jono cared for Tavi. "Merci, Jono. Be right back."

Jono lifted Tavi from Remy's arms. Tavi made a little chirping sound, then settled into Jono's embrace. Jono rocked from side to side, slowly, gently patting Tavi's back as he did so. He was rewarded with a couple more satisfied chirps, and a sweet little smile.

Jean-Paul watched in quiet fascination as Jono rocked Tavi, and felt his affection for the young Brit grow. He'd always found Jono attractive, but after his close call with Sabretooth, he was beginning to realize that he was developing some very deep feelings for him. Frightened by the idea, Jean-Paul pushed such thoughts aside, dismissing them as fantasy borne out of loneliness.

Remy returned a few minutes later with a duffel slung over his shoulder. He lifted Tavi back into his arms, and waited as Jono draped a blanket over the sleeping child.

"Meet you at de Boathouse, oui?" Remy called over his shoulder as he walked out of the waiting room.

 _*Be there inna tic, Rems,*_ Jono said. _*Need to grab some stuff of me own.*_

"I get the spare bed." Jean-Paul flashed Jono a wicked smile. "Unless you want to share it?"

Jono actually blushed and his ears burned bright red. He held up his hands.

 _*Just go get yer shit, mate. We'll sort out the damned sleeping arrangements when we get there.*_


	6. Confessions

Jono was inside the boathouse, watching over Tavi. Remy, once he was sure Tavi was asleep, had slipped out to the dock for a smoke. Jean-Paul, dressed casually now in a pair of jeans and a turtleneck, soon joined him.

"May I?" Jean-Paul asked, reaching for Remy's cigarettes.

Remy looked surprised. "Didn't know you smoked anymore."

"Mmm...sometimes. Been one of those days, oui?" Jean-Paul accepted a light from Remy, and inhaled deeply. "Ah, I almost forgot how good this is."

Remy was staring out onto the lake. He seemed to be considering his next words. "Merci, Jean-Paul. For standing beside me. You didn't have to do dat."

"Of course I did," Jean-Paul replied. He almost sounded hurt. "I wasn't going to let Logan harm Tavi any further. I have never trusted his judgement. He does what _he_ feels is right, regardless of what anyone else thinks. Arrogant man. I would know, being one myself." He smiled wanly. "And you must admit, the look on Emma's face when Jono lit into her was priceless."

Remy chuckled in agreement. "A t'ing of beauty, dat was. Jono handled ole Logan damn good, too,"

"He certainly did. What was it he said? 'Blow it out your bloody ass'?" Jean-Paul laughed hard, remembering.

Remy looked at him with surprise; he couldn't recall the last time he'd heard his friend laugh like that. It reminded him of what Jean-Paul was like when they'd first met, before the world had turned on the young Beaubier after it was revealed he was a mutant. It had cost him the love of a sport he'd excelled at - skiing - stripping him of his medals, his livelihood and his dignity.

"I thought for sure that Logan was going to have a stroke when Jono challenged him like that," Jean-Paul went on, still laughing. "I have to give Jono credit; he didn't back down, didn't so much as blink. Very impressive, considering who he was up against. And let's be honest. I wasn't in any shape for a fight, and both Logan and Emma knew it. Jono, he's got a spine made of steel."

"You get no argument outta me on dat, homme." Remy whistled low, then gazed out onto the small lake. The two smoked in silence for a while. Remy crushed his cigarette out on the sole of his boot and dropped the butt in an empty beer can. He turned to look at his friend. "You shouldn't tease de boy, Jean-Paul."

Jean-Paul looked stunned. "Quoi? Non! I would _never_ tease Tavi…"

Remy held up his hand. "I meant Jono. What you said back at de Med Lab. About sharing a bed?" He sighed heavily. How to approach the subject? "Jean-Paul...I know you're gay…"

"Well, you should," Jean-Paul interrupted, flushing lightly.

"Dat was a long time ago," Remy pressed on. "And I'm bi. But Jono? He likes men. And I t'ink de boy has a crush on you. Mais...more den dat, I 'spect."

For a moment, Jean-Paul wasn't sure if he'd heard Remy right. He felt his heart race with an unexpected thrill, then, like before, he dismissed the idea as ridiculous. He gave a skeptical little laugh, and waved his hand in a sort of 'shoo fly' gesture. "Don't be absurd. First of all, how old is he? Eighteen?"

"Twenty-one now, and don't change de subject. I'm bein' serious here, homme." Remy lit another cigarette. After a moment, Jean-Paul stole another one, too. He took a long drag from it, felt a dizzying rush of nicotine, and decided he should sit down. Remy plopped down beside him.

"Now what on earth ever gave you the idea that our fiery Jono has any interest in me, eh?" Jean-Paul asked, trying to sound light-hearted, and failing miserably. Remy had touched on a very sensitive subject with him. Just the very idea that Jono was attracted to him made him want to run away. Too many disastrous relationships had left Jean-Paul understandably gun-shy. And Jono just seemed so damned _young;_ Jean-Paul had recently turned twenty-eight and it made him feel old. Too old for someone like Jono.

"You one o' de blindest men I ever met," Remy quipped, shaking his head. "Don't you ever notice de way he looks at you?"

"So? I'm used to being stared at." Before Remy could call him out for being such an arrogant prick, Jean-Paul held up his hand. "I did not mean it that way. It is just that...once I came out, as it were, not just as a mutant, but a _gay_ mutant, well...people looked at me differently. Like I had something catching." He tugged nervously on his left ear. "Other than these supposed 'looks', why would you think that Jono cares for me, eh? I'm not particularly loveable, you know."

Remy cringed. He realized that Jean-Paul was taking a huge risk, opening up to him about something that was so obviously painful. And it was becoming clear, as well, that Jean-Paul had feelings for Jono.

"I'm an empath, cher. An' sometimes, Jono ain't so good at hidin' his feelings. Neit'er are you, for dat matter."

"Crisse," Jean-Paul whispered, pressing his hand to his forehead.

Remy scratched his chin, thinking carefully about what he wanted to say next. "When Jono saw how bad you were hurt, de look on his face...he was real scared for you, Jean-Paul. Everybody was so focused on Creed, an' on Tavi, dat if Jono hadn't been dere, hadn't gone right to your side, you mighta bled to death." Remy laid his hand gently on Jean-Paul's shoulder. "He saved your life. After, in de Med Lab, when you were still out cold wit' a nasty concussion, Jono stayed right dere wit' you, talkin' to you, bringing you back. And he got between you and Wolverine, ready to take him on to protect you. All dis, Jean-Paul...it's 'cause de boy _loves you_ , neh?"

Jean-Paul bit his lower lip. He thought he'd dreamt it, Jono's raspy telepathic voice whispering in his mind, gentle, loving words, coaxing him back to consciousness. Suddenly, it was all too real, and it scared the hell out of him.

"I can't…" Jean-Paul whispered. "Remy, I just can't." He paused and looked down at his hands. "I've been drawn to Jono since he first came to the school. But I don't think I have the courage…"

"I know you afraid, ami. An' I know why. But don't let de chance for love pass you by just 'cause you scared." Remy smiled at him. "And you gotta admit, homme, dat boy is hot hot!"

Despite himself, Jean-Paul smiled, and nodded his agreement. "Oui, that he most certainly is." He looked out across the lake, noticed heavy storm clouds rolling in, fast. A bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, followed by a rumble of thunder. "Lovely. Perfect setting for the mood I am in," Jean-Paul sighed. As if on cue, an even louder crack sounded, closer this time, making him jump with surprise. " _Tabarnak!"_

Remy started to stand, but sat back down when another bright flash lit up the sky, followed almost immediately by a crash of thunder. The storm was almost upon them. He laughed; thunderstorms had always thrilled him.

"Whoowee! Dat was one big ole ba-boom! You t'ink 'Ro havin' herself a tantrum?"

Jean-Paul chuckled. "I wouldn't put it past her, considering everything that's happened." Rain, big fat droplets, began to fall from the sky. "Looks nasty." Jean-Paul stopped, interrupted by the sound of Tavi screaming in fear.

" _Tavi!"_ Remy cried, leaping to his feet. Before he knew what was happening, Jean-Paul grabbed him and flew them both back to the boathouse. Jono met them at the door, Tavi in his arms. The little boy was wide-eyed, pale and obviously frightened. He had his Hedgie clutched to his chest. Another boom of thunder rattled the old wooden structure, and Tavi howled in response. The lights flickered, then went out.

 _*It's the storm! Poor lad's terrified of it,*_ Jono explained, handing Tavi off to Remy. _*I'm sorry, Remy, I didn't know what ter do...I couldn't calm 'im down...*_

Remy shook his head. "Don' you fret, Jono, I got dis."

More thunder, two big crashes one right after another. Tavi howled again. The sound was both eerie and heartbreaking.

"POPPA! POPPA!" Tavi was frightened beyond reason. He buried his face against Remy's chest and clung to him. His entire body was shaking.

"Calme toi, petit," Remy soothed, holding him close, rocking him. He walked across the cozy little front room and sat down on the old couch. Jono busied himself stacking wood in the fireplace, while Jean-Paul went in search of candles.

"P-p-poppa! Th-the th-th-thunder…!" Tavi wept. "M-monsieur Devlin...he…"

Jean-Paul quietly placed a blanket over Tavi, then retreated to the other side of the room, sitting with Jono near the fire. Remy continued to rock Tavi gently, cooing in his ear while the storm raged outside. Finally, Tavi calmed down enough that Remy felt it safe enough to ask him some questions.

"Tell me why de storm scares you, petit," Remy said softly, stroking Tavi's back. Tavi took a deep, hitching breath and pressed his cheek to Remy's. "Tell me who dis Monsieur Devlin is."

"Monsieur Devlin...he ran the Freak Show," Tavi sighed. "If I was a bad boy, if I didn't give the crowd a good enough show, he would punish me. Whenever there was a storm, he would put me in the small cage, outside. I was so scared of the lightning, and the thunder, and the rain was so cold, Poppa." The memory made Tavi shake. "I'm sorry, Poppa...I was asleep, and the storm woke me. I forgot where I was. I thought I was back there."

"Tavi, sweetheart, look at me," Remy placed his finger under Tavi's chin and lifted his face. "I am sorry for all de bad t'ings dat were done to you. But here, petit, you are loved, and you are _safe._ You know dat, right?"

Tavi nodded and sniffed loudly. "I know, Poppa." He sighed and looked at Remy with adoration. "Poppa?"

"Oui, petit?"

"I always knew you were my Poppa, even before you came for me," Tavi whispered, shy. "I dreamed of you all the time." He pressed a kiss to Remy's cheek. "I love you, Poppa."

Remy hugged him tight. "I love you, too, son."

Tavi yawned, sleepy, and rubbed his eyes. Remy stood and carried Tavi into the smaller of the two bedrooms. He pulled back the covers on the bed and gently laid Tavi down. The little boy was drifting off to sleep by the time Remy had stripped off his clothes and changed into a pair of sleep pants and a t-shirt. Careful not to jostle him too much, Remy slid in beside his son.

"Poppa…" Tavi sighed. Remy kissed the top of his head.

"Shhh petit. Poppa's here. Go to sleep now, baby," Remy soothed, tucking the blankets up around them both.

Tavi curled himself around his father, head on Remy's shoulder, and began to snore lightly. It didn't take long before Remy joined him in a deep and dreamless sleep.

 _Later that night..._

" _Crisse,"_ Jean-Paul muttered as he warmed himself in front of the fire. He was seated cross-legged on the couch, a blanket in his lap. Normally, the cold didn't bother him, but he was still weak, despite Tavi's help. Jono came out of the kitchen, a steaming mug in his hand.

 _*This oughta warm y' up, mate,*_ Jono said, handing him the cup.

"Hot chocolate?" Jean-Paul looked surprised. "Merci, Jono." He blew on the cup, then sipped carefully. It was surprisingly rich and delicious.

 _*Noffin' like a good cuppa cocoa on a night like this,*_ Jono replied, dropping down beside Jean-Paul.

Jean-Paul was keenly aware of Jono's body right next to his, and the effect it had on him. Their thighs were almost touching and when Jono's leg briefly brushed against Jean-Paul's, it was like touching a live wire. Jean-Paul knew that if he shifted his weight just a little bit, he would feel the entire length of Jono's body alongside his. The temptation to do so was hard to resist, and he couldn't help wondering if Jono felt the same way. When Jono didn't make a move to bridge that physical gap, Jean-Paul's initial reaction to the perceived rejection left him feeling foolish, like some high-school kid experiencing their first unrequited crush.

Still, Jean-Paul wasn't ready to give up, not just yet. He looked closely at Jono, making sure to maintain eye contact. At the very least, it helped him focus, since having Jono so close was proving to be a serious distraction. It was difficult for Jean-Paul to concentrate, not just about _what_ he wanted to ask, but how. Knowing what a proud man Jono was, he didn't want to say anything that might offend the younger man. Jean-Paul was painfully aware of his tendency to be abrasive, and he had no desire to drive a wedge between the two of them with an unintentionally careless remark.

"It does not bother you, Jono, when others eat and drink in front of you?" Jean-Paul asked, trying to act casual. There was something embarrassing about the fact that he had been reduced to behaving like a horny teenager on their first date. Jean-Paul hoped that Jono hadn't noticed. If he had, at least he was polite enough not to mention the fact.

Jono considered his answer carefully, wanting to be truthful without making Jean-Paul feel guilty. More importantly, however, was that Jono didn't want the man's pity. That was something he simply couldn't tolerate, not even from Jean-Paul. _Especially_ from Jean-Paul. Jono could deal with a lot of things, but pity wasn't one of them.

 _*It used ter really get under me skin,*_ Jono admitted, shrugging. _*But ter be 'onest wif yer, that isn't wot I really miss, yer know?*_

Jean-Paul felt his heart thump painfully in his chest. He knew exactly what it was that Jono missed so much; it was what Jean-Paul missed as well. Simple human contact, something that so many took for granted, and which they both craved so much.

For a long, quiet moment, Jean-Paul just looked at Jono. Really looked at him, as if seeing him for the first time. Jono truly was a handsome man, despite the bandages. His nose was long and straight, bordered by high cheekbones that were sharply defined. But his best feature were his eyes; incredibly expressive, a warm brown color, the irises flecked with gold, fringed by thick lashes beneath low, straight brows. His ears jutted out a bit from his mop of unruly chestnut hair, which, rather than being a detriment, actually complimented his boyish good looks.

Jean-Paul was particularly appreciative of Jono's build: long, lanky and wiry, nothing like the over-built bodies possessed by what he disparagingly referred to as the Spandex Squad. And Jean-Paul liked that he wasn't. He couldn't help but wonder what Jono looked like nude, stripped of his black clothing. Jean-Paul experienced a sudden thrill at the thought, and focused his attention on the fire. If Jono was bothered by Jean-Paul's scrutiny, he didn't show it.

"Thank you, Jono, for what you did for me," Jean-Paul said, his voice soft. He wasn't very good at thanking people. But he wanted Jono to know that he was perfectly aware that without him, without the young man's bravery and selflessness, he wouldn't be alive. Not just because Jono had saved his life when he was bleeding out after Sabretooth's attack, not even that he'd then stood toe-to-toe with Wolverine to protect him when he'd been too weak to defend himself. More than anything else, it was Jono's steadfast refusal to let Jean-Paul go, that he stayed by his side while he was gravely wounded and unconscious, stubborn in his dedication to bringing Jean-Paul back from the abyss.

Nobody had ever done that for Jean-Paul before, not outside the requirement that members of a superhero team like the X-Men - and prior to that, Alpha Flight - must help him if the need arose. Obligation absent real concern. True, the X-Men had come to him, wanting his skills to fill a tactical void on their team, but he'd never truly felt a part of them. He had always assumed that his past, that his open and unapologetic homosexuality, was the reason why his compatriots had only given him what he thought was grudging protection and uncomfortable, forced inclusion.

How much of that was real, and how much was Jean-Paul's perception, he had no idea, but there was no denying that he'd always been treated like a commodity, instead of a living, breathing person. Jean-Paul would never forget the sting when Alpha Flight, upon learning of his sexual orientation, had made it painfully clear that he was to keep himself firmly in the closet, especially where the public was concerned. He was supposed to be the hot stud of Alpha Flight, solidly heterosexual, and coming out would have been a public relations nightmare. The betrayal had left him deeply hurt.

No, Jono had done what he had because he _cared_ what happened to him. Jean-Paul's life actually _mattered_ to Jono _._ And for Jean-Paul, that was what meant so much, what finally provided a much-needed balm to his wounded ego. Before Jono joined the X-Men, Jean-Paul had never really felt like he belonged on the team. Only Remy - the other misfit - had offered Jean-Paul any kind of real friendship. As for the rest, there lacked an actual connection, a genuine comradery borne of mutual trust and loyalty that Jean-Paul, regardless of his seeming aloofness, had craved, but would never have admitted to. And then Jono had come along, and had filled that void. Despite himself, Jean-Paul had let himself hope for more, despite how vulnerable it made him feel. He'd been hurt so many times before, had spent his entire life outside looking in.

Jean-Paul realized that the two of them had just been sitting there, quiet, not speaking, although there was nothing awkward about it, not like the silence that usually accompanies a lull in other, more shallow, social interactions. Finally, Jean-Paul spoke. He wanted badly for Jono to know what he was feeling. It wasn't like him, to willingly bare his soul like that. It was a risk, yes, but one that Jean-Paul felt was worth taking.

"Jono, I have no doubt that I would have died if you hadn't been there. I owe you my life." Having said that, Jean-Paul wanted to pull Jono into his arms and show him just how grateful he was, how happy he was to be sharing this moment with him.

Jono waved his hand. _*I know yer'd do the same fer me, Jean-Paul.*_ Their eyes met, and both understood the deeper meaning, the so far unacknowledged bond the two now shared.

Needing to break the tension. Jean-Paul sought the shelter of the casual arrogance that he wore like a second skin. "But of course I would, Jono, it is what we heroes do," Jean-Paul said, then winced inwardly at how he sounded, so flippant, so damnably insufferable. He realized, suddenly, what he was doing. The same thing he always did when he felt that someone else was getting too close, was chipping away at his armor: do his damnedest to drive them away, using his words to wound, to draw blood. Jean-Paul knew that it was time to let himself trust, to hope again.

Jean-Paul sipped at the cocoa, then set it on the coffee table. He turned his sharp blue eyes on Jono, and took a risk. "Why didn't you tell me, before?" he asked, his voice soft. There was no mistaking Jean-Paul's stark vulnerability as he searched Jono's face for an answer.

 _*What're yer on about, mate? Tell yer what?*_ Jono asked, playing dumb, hiding behind his own carefully constructed walls. Outwardly, Jono seemed calm and unconcerned, although both of them knew it was an act. Despite Jono's own self-created persona of the solitary, brooding loner, he was just as painfully lonely as Jean-Paul. That he might betray this to the man he was sure was completely out of his league was absolutely terrifying.

Jean-Paul leaned in close and gently brushed a lock of Jono's hair from his eyes. Jono couldn't help but notice the way his hand trembled when he did.

"Why didn't you tell me," Jean-Paul repeated, "how you felt."

 _*Jean-Paul, I…*_ Jono paused, looked down for a moment, then back up, forcing himself to make eye contact with the man he craved like a drug, the man who haunted his dreams, drove him to distraction, made him feel emotions that he never thought he would again. _*I didn't know 'ow.*_ He stopped and looked at Jean-Paul with open, naked longing. It almost took Jean-Paul's breath away, that look. _*God, I wanna kiss yer so bad, but I can't…*_

"Let me," Jean-Paul whispered. He placed his hands alongside Jono's face and pulled him close. Jono's eyes widened in surprise as Jean-Paul pressed those beautiful, full lips of his to the rubbery bandages, right where Jono's mouth used to be. He kissed the tip of Jono's nose next, then each cheek, his eyelids, his brow. Tears welled up in Jono's eyes and spilled down his face; no one had touched him like that in a long time, not since before the accident. Jean-Paul gently brushed away Jono's tears.

 _*Jean-Paul, yer don't know what yer doin'.*_ Jono cupped Jean-Paul's chin in his hand, slowly stroked the line of his jaw with his calloused thumb. _*Yer don't know at all. Everyfing bolluckses up around me. I always manage ter fuck up the good fings in me life.*_

Jean-Paul hummed, the corners of his mouth lifting in a secret little smile. He tapped his finger against Jono's nose. "I know precisely what I am doing, and I know that you are beautiful Monsieur Starsmore. And not just on the outside, either." He paused and gazed warmly at the younger man. "I heard what you said when you thought I couldn't."

Jono shut his eyes tight. He hadn't thought Jean-Paul would remember his gentle, loving words, words meant just for Jean-Paul, to encourage him to come back to the living. Jean-Paul wasn't supposed to have been able to hear Jono's low gravedigger voice, the sweet little endearments whispered in his mind, even that most wonderful and frightening word of all. But he had heard it all, everything Jono had said while he was unconscious. It was evidence, perhaps, that the bond the two of them shared went far beyond mutual attraction.

"You told me you love me," Jean-Paul whispered. There. He'd said it. He hoped he hadn't somehow imagined it. Still, he soldiered on, despite the fear. "Is this true, Jono?"

Jono flinched, just a little. He steeled himself for the inevitable rejection. _*Yes.*_

Jean-Paul took a deep breath, gave a sharp little nod. Whether it was to reassure himself, or Jono, or both of them, he didn't know. "Well then, that makes this easier, doesn't it?"

 _*Wot? Wot does?*_

"That I love you, too." Jean-Paul smiled. He took hold of Jono's hand and kissed his palm. "Now, before I decide to fly off in a panic, how about we take this slowly, oui? I suspect we are both very much out of practice."

Jono gave his telepathic version of a laugh. The relief was overwhelming, knowing that Jean-Paul shared his feelings, that the attraction was definitely mutual.

 _*Gonna be right difficult, keepin' me feelers offa yer all the time, Jean-Paul,*_ Jono teased. Jean-Paul smiled at Jono's playful tone. To Jean-Paul, Jono's telepathic voice was sexy as hell. He'd always imagined that it was a close approximation of what it had been before Jono's powers manifested: slightly rough, deep and growly. A whiskey and cigarettes voice, like an old Blues singer, the male version of Janis Joplin, perhaps. Now, with the intimate turn their conversation had taken, he was sure of it.

 _*I've thought a lot about what I'd do to yer if given the chance, luv.*_

Jean-Paul cocked an eyebrow, his lips curling into a sardonic half-smile. He laughed just a little. "Oh, have you, now? All this time, you lusting after me, and I never had a clue."

 _*Well, yer may not be real sharp, but yer sure are fit. And damned if yer don't know it, y'bloody preening peacock.*_ Jono paused, waited a moment to make sure he hadn't offended the notoriously prickly man. Jean-Paul laughed and then saw the look in Jono's eyes, felt the raw, powerful sexuality of him. He couldn't help the little gasp that escaped his lips.

Jono leaned in close to him, and when he spoke next, it was as intimate as a whisper in Jean-Paul's ear, incredibly sensual. It provoked in Jean-Paul a very visceral reaction, and he shivered. * _Drove me 'alf mad every time I was near yer,*_ Jono told him in a voice that left no doubt about how he felt. _*I wanted yer so fuckin' bad it 'urt, Jean-Paul. Can't 'ardly believe I'm here wif yer now, that yer really want me, too.*_

Jean-Paul felt a rush at the intensity of Jono's desire, a heat that slowly spread through his body before finally pooling delightfully in his groin. When he finally spoke, his voice was pitched low, husky and trembling just a little. His body was practically thrumming with desire. At that moment, to Jono, Jean-Paul was sex personified. Jono's body began to respond, and he felt his cock grow hard, straining against the rough fabric of his jeans. A quick glance between Jean-Paul's legs told him that he wasn't alone in his reaction to the sexual tension sparking between them.

"Mon amoureux," Jean-Paul cooed, running his hands through Jono's hair. He gave him a look that was positively smouldering. "I have wanted you from the moment I first saw you."

Confident now, Jono reached out and ran a finger along the outline of Jean-Paul's ear.

 _*Can't tell yer 'ow much I've wanted ter touch yer ears. They're bloody gorgeous.*_ Again, that deep sexy laugh. _*Gives me somfing fun ter do wif me 'ands, too.*_

"Merde, Jono...ahh...my ears, they are very sensitive," Jean-Paul said. His breathing had sped up noticeably, and a flush was spreading up his neck. As if to test this theory, Jono lightly pinched the very tip of that elfin ear. Jean-Paul sucked in a quick breath and actually shot straight up, hovering above the couch. Jono's fingers were very talented. Jean-Paul wondered how it would feel to have those amazing hands work their same magic on other parts of his body.

 _*Damn, yer weren't kiddin' Mush,*_ Jono teased, pulling the other man back down onto the couch..

Jean-Paul smiled at the little endearment. "Mush?"

Jono gave a little shrug and crinkled his eyes; Jean-Paul could almost envision a mischievous smile beneath Jono's bandages. Jono leaned in close and tickled Jean-Paul's ear with his nose, eliciting a soft groan from him. Emboldened, he ran his hand down Jean-Paul's arm, noting the tension in his muscles, before gently resting it on his thigh. Jean-Paul hummed happily. He leaned his head on Jono's shoulder and tucked in close to him, letting Jono envelope him. It had been a long time for both of them, having such intimate human contact, and they were content to just sit there on the couch, wrapped up in each other's embrace, hands softly exploring one another, discovering, learning. Neither of them wanted to rush. They wanted to savor it, this wonderful moment when they were at last free to express what they had both kept hidden from one another for so long.

Jean-Paul was quite pleased to find that Jono's hands were incredibly sensitive, and he got his revenge by sucking on Jono's fingers one by one. It left Jono flushed and babbling just a bit, much to Jean-Paul's delight.

"Ah, you like this, oui?" Jean-Paul hummed softly.

 _*Oi, Mush...this is so much better'n what I ever imagined.*_ Jono leaned in close again, nuzzling Jean-Paul's neck, enjoying his wonderful scent. His fingers danced along Jean-Paul's broad chest.

"Mon coeur, mon amour," Jean-Paul whispered, running his fingers through Jono's hair again. He sat back a little and seemed to be studying the younger man. "Ah, Jono...tu es un homme très bel et sexy,"

Jono chuckled at that. His French was a bit rusty, but he got the gist of it.

 _*Sexy, okay. But 'andsome? Me? Awful nice of yer, Mush, but yer might need yer eyes checkin'*_

"You are questioning my taste?" Jean-Paul put on his best mock-aggravated look.

 _*Wot then? 'ow could I? Don't know what yer taste like. But I 'ave a good idea.*_ Jono, playful again, crinkled his eyes in that way Jean-Paul had come to recognize as a smile. _*So, 'ow about we test this theory, Mush?*_

Jean-Paul raised his eyebrows in feigned shock, and pressed his hand to his heart. "Why, Jono, did you just proposition me?" He tried to look serious, but failed, and laughed.

 _*Can't 'elp meself; it's yer amazin' charm, y'sexy toff.*_ Jono did his best impression of a leer.

"Brat," Jean-Paul tapped Jono's nose with his finger again. He started to lean forward to kiss him, but stopped short, gave a surprised gasp of pain. "Ungh…" He grabbed his side, wincing.

 _*Mush? What's wrong? Yer still 'urtin, aren't yer?*_ Jono wrapped his arm around Jean-Paul's waist and pulled him close, protective.

"Just a twinge." Jean-Paul forced a smile. He was actually in much more pain than he was willing to admit. Tavi had healed the worst of his wounds, but it would still be some time before he was back to normal. "I'm fine, really."

Jono looked skeptical. _*Yer need ter rest, luv. C'mon now, lets put yer t'bed. Been a long day fer all of us.*_

While disappointed that the delicious sexual tension between them had been interrupted, Jean-Paul was at the same time deeply moved by Jono's concern for him. And the way Jono had immediately drawn him into the safety of his arms, the unspoken desire to both protect and possess Jean-Paul, was something he had never experienced before. He found that he loved the feeling. But still, he was compelled to protest, not wanting the moment to end.

"Jono, truly, I am alright," Jean-Paul said.

 _*Sorry, Mush, but I'll be the judge o' that. No use arguing wif me. Don't know if yer noticed, luv, but I'm a right stubborn bastard."_ Before Jean-Paul could argue further, Jono lifted him up off the couch and carried him into the bedroom.

"This is not necessary, Jono," Jean-Paul said, trying not to laugh at the image of Jono carrying him like a bride over the threshold. Jono ignored him, and carefully put him down on the bed. Jono turned to leave, but Jean-Paul took his hand.

"Stay. Please. Just...be with me tonight, Jono."

Jono did.


	7. Reclamations and Regrets

Remy woke with a start. It was dawn, and Tavi was gone. Frantic, Remy scrambled out of the bed and went in search of his son.

"Tavi?!" Remy called, not seeing him anywhere in the house. He felt a sinking sensation in his gut. "Petit! Où es-tu?" He suffered a disturbing flash of deja-vu; he'd uttered those same words when searching for Tavi in his dreams.

The sound of Remy's cries brought Jono and Jean-Paul out from the room they had shared. Both looked sleep-addled and hastily dressed. Jean-Paul was shirtless, and the bandages covering his chest were stained with new blood. Despite Tavi's best efforts, the wound had been too deep for the boy to heal completely, and Jean-Paul's sudden leap from the bed had opened it back up. He was frighteningly pale, too.

"What's wrong, Remy?" Jean-Paul asked, holding his side. Jono looked at his new lover with concern, but said nothing. He was well aware that the stubborn man would refuse to return to bed until he knew what was going on.

Remy didn't answer. He was stood at the open door, staring at something that seemed to deeply disturb him. Standing not far away was Tavi, still in his pajamas, his Hedgie held close to his chest, talking with a woman Remy hadn't expected to see: Rogue. Tavi was staring at her in an odd way, while she was looking at him with a strange curiosity.

"Tavi!" Remy cried, moving quickly to his side. He scooped his son into his arms.

"Poppa!" Tavi threw his arms around Remy and kissed his cheek, then cast a look at Rogue that could only be described as confusion mixed with cautious fear. Who knew what, if anything, had passed between the two of them before Remy intervened. From the front door, Jean-Paul and Jono looked on, neither quite sure what to make of the situation. Both knew about Remy's complicated past with Rogue, that they had been chaste lovers unable to touch because of her mutant powers. Their relationship ultimately hadn't survived after Rogue had been the one to leave him stranded in Antarctica, a betrayal that had left their friend deeply wounded.

"Rogue, what are you doin' here?" Remy asked, holding Tavi close. He wondered how she'd found out about him. She hadn't been around in a long time, not since joining the Avengers.

"Well hello to you too, sugar," Rogue drawled, hands on hips. "So it's true, Remy? This really is your son?" She smiled at the little boy, hoping to break the ice. Tavi had been obviously nervous around her ever since he'd seen her standing outside the boathouse, and had wandered out to speak to her. "He's cute. Sure looks like you." She leaned in close and tweaked Tavi's nose. He flinched away from her and buried his face in Remy's shoulder, suddenly shy.

 _*Poppa...why is she afraid of me? Did I do something bad again?*_ Tavi sent to Remy. Remy was surprised; Tavi didn't usually resort to telepathy.

"It's alright, petit, you did not'ing wrong," Remy whispered. "Let me handle dis." He paused and shifted his weight from foot to foot. In truth, he had no idea what he was going to say; his feelings for Rogue were complicated, at best.

"Tavi is my son, yes," Remy finally said. "And I 'spect you already know de whole story, 'cause you here, ain't you?"

"So who's his Mom?" Rogue laughed. "You don't know, do ya? How very like ya, Remy darlin'." The smile fell from Rogue's face as she realized her teasing probably wasn't going over very well by the look on both Remy and Tavi's faces.

Tavi turned his big eyes on Rogue. They were shiny with tears. In a tiny voice, he answered her:

"My Momma is dead. I saw her die."

A stunned silence fell among all of them. Remy felt his heart ache for his son. Jean-Paul, who had seen his mentor Raymond Belmonde killed before his eyes, reached for Jono's hand, laced his fingers with the other man's, and held tight. Jono looked at Jean-Paul, could see the muscles in his jaw jump, and knew what he was thinking about. He squeezed Jean-Paul's hand, reassuring him that he was there.

It was obvious that Rogue regretted her words. She reached out to touch Tavi, but again, he shied away from her.

"I know I wasn't supposed to remember, but I do," Tavi went on. His voice had an odd pitch to it, both calm and tinged with fear. Remy held his breath; this was the first time Tavi had truly opened up about his past. He didn't want to do or say anything that might make Tavi retreat once more, and remained silent, just let him speak

"The Boss thought he took my memories away," Tavi continued, his eyes swimming with tears. "But I remember her. My Momma was like us, a mutant. She died trying to take me away from that place where I was made. The bad men, they...they shot her for it. They _killed her_." Tavi stopped and took a deep, hitching breath. "Her name was Evangeline Claudel, and she was a prisoner, just like me." Tavi gave an involuntary shudder. "When the Boss came and stole me from the lab, he told me that he was there to save me, like my Momma tried to. But that was just another lie." Tavi laid his head back on Remy's shoulder and began to softly cry.

"Ah...Ah'm sorry. Ah didn't mean..." Rogue whispered. She wanted so badly to take it back. Remy scowled at her.

"Why are you _really_ here, Anna Marie?" Remy snapped.

 _*People sent her. Her people,*_ Tavi sent, and this time he made sure Jono and Jean-Paul heard, too. Remy felt a chill run through his body.

"The Avengers wanted me to assess the situation with the kid, Remy," Rogue explained. "They asked me to come and talk to you."

Remy felt a flash of anger. "His name is _Tavi,_ and he's just a little boy," he growled. "What de hell de Avengers want wit' him, anyway?" He couldn't figure out how the word had gotten out, and it pissed him off. "Storm know you here?"

"Yes. And before you go and get all huffy again, sugar, she already warned me to play nice." Rogue tossed her hair. "So, there someplace private we can go and talk, Remy? Please?"

Remy felt a strange tug in his heart. He hated that he still had feelings for her. After a moment he nodded. "I'll be right back, honey," he whispered to Tavi. He kissed the boy's furrowed brow, then walked up to Jono. "Keep him safe. I'm gonna go talk to Rogue, see what de Avengers want wit' Tavi." He sighed and looked at Jean-Paul. "Don't you do not'ing stupid, ami. You ain't up to a fight."

Jean-Paul frowned. He knew Remy was right, and hated it.

"Don't go far. If you aren't back in a reasonable amount of time, we _will_ come and get you," Jean-Paul said, eyeing Rogue with suspicion. He wasn't convinced that the situation wasn't just a trap.

 _*_ _ **I**_ _will come and get yer, Rems,*_ Jono corrected. _*Jean-Paul will stay wif Tavi if it comes to that.*_ He looked at Jean-Paul and crinkled his eyes at him. _*No arguments, Mush. You ain't strong enough right now fer a fight. And yeah, I'm a real nag, y'know. Regular nanny, me.*_ Then, feeling brave, he nuzzled Jean-Paul's neck with his nose. Jean-Paul was obviously pleased with the little show of affection.

Remy couldn't help but smile; apparently, his talk with Jean-Paul had worked. "If I'm not back in fifteen minutes, send de Cavalry," Remy passed Tavi off to Jono, gave his son another kiss, then walked down the slightly sloping lawn to where Rogue waited. They walked to the boat dock, a place Remy knew that Jean-Paul, with his bird-like sight, could keep an eye on them.

"The Avengers are scared of me," Tavi said suddenly. Even though he knew it was wrong to read Rogue's mind, he didn't care; he was worried that these Avengers would try to take him away from his family, and to him, that was all that mattered.

Jono looked at him carefully _*Tell us, lad. S'orright, you go ahead now.*_

Tavi hugged his Hedgie close to him. "They think I'm dangerous. Just like the Boss said I was. Because of how I was made. They're afraid when I grow up, I'll be a real monster. A Genocide Machine. Just a killer. But...I'm not. I promise, I'm not. Dr. Hank said he could help me!"

Jean-Paul made a sharp hissing noise. He was stunned that Tavi knew about the program that had created him. Somehow, the boy had retained memories that were supposed to have been wiped clean by Sinister.

"What if they want to take me away, lock me up? I promise, I won't hurt anyone! Can't we tell them that?" Tavi whispered. He was beginning to let his fear overtake him. "Please don't let them put me back in a cage, Jono. I can't...I can't…" Tavi took a deep, hiccupping breath, trying hard not to cry. "Can they do that, Jono? Can they take me away? I'll die if they put me in a cage again!"

Jono fought to stay calm. Beside him, he could sense Jean-Paul's same struggle. _*Don't yer worry, luv. Nobody is gonna take yer away. No way we'd let that 'appen.*_ He hugged Tavi close, reassuringly.

Jean-Paul was watching Remy and Rogue talk. It seemed, so far, to be amicable. He looked at Jono and Tavi. "Listen to Jono, mon chou. The Avengers are not about to lock up a child. Not so long as Stark and Rogers have anything to say about it." He paused and forced a smile. "I know them, cher. I think they're more concerned about _other_ people's interest in you."

Tavi smiled shyly at Jean-Paul, and seemed comforted by his words, his reassurances. He laid his head on Jono's shoulder. "I think Poppa still loves her." He meant Rogue.

 _*Love can be complicated, lad.*_ Jono ruffled his hair. Beside him, Jean-Paul laughed.

Tavi frowned. He shifted uneasily in Jono's arms and cocked his head to one side, as if he was listening to something only he could hear. "Something's wrong."

Jean-Paul felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. "What do you mean, Tavi?"

Tavi pressed his hands to his head. He suddenly flung his body backwards, nearly throwing himself from Jono's embrace. Jono struggled to hold on to him. Tavi shuddered, then went limp. He was still conscious, but breathing hard. That clicking sound that he made when he felt threatened welled up from deep in his throat.

"THEY'RE COMING!"

 _*TAVI!*_ Jono felt a rush of fear. Beside him, Jean-Paul tensed, prepared to grab them both and fly off - he had no idea where - despite Remy's warnings. Before he could, Remy, sensing Tavi's fear and distress, turned and ran back to the Boathouse, Rogue right behind him. She seemed as surprised as he was.

"POPPA POPPA THEY'RE COMING!" Tavi cried. His eyes were wide, pupils dilated, and he unconsciously unsheathed his wrist spurs for a brief moment before sheathing them again. Remy took him from Jono's arms.

"Tavi! Who's comin', petit?" Remy asked, holding Tavi close. Tavi was swinging his head rapidly back and forth, as if scanning for danger. More telling, however, was that he was putting off a strong musky odor that Remy knew was a sign that he was succumbing to his feral state. "Tavi, _look at me!_ "

Tavi turned his big gold eyes on Remy. He was breathing hard, and the clicking sound was louder. But unlike before, he seemed more in control this time. "Poppa, the bad men are coming, they're coming soon!"

Remy looked at Rogue. "You know anyt'ing about dis?" he demanded, assuming Tavi was talking about her fellow Avengers.

"No I swear! I just came here to talk. We ain't gonna take him. What do you think we are? Kidnappers?" Rogue was clearly rattled, and telling the truth.

"No no no," Tavi whispered. "Soon soon we gotta get ready, we gotta be ready for them Poppa…" He shook his head, as if trying to deny some intruder. He went suddenly still and almost rigid, looked at Remy with frightened eyes. "The Boss. He found me. He's coming Poppa, and he has the monsters with him."

Remy felt a cold chill run up his spine. He looked at Rogue. "Sinister and his Marauders."

She nodded. It was all he had to say. "Stay here. I'll go back go the school, let Storm know what's comin'." She paused and looked at Tavi. "We ain't gonna let those bastards take ya, honey."

Tavi reached out and laid his hand on her arm. "I don't want to hurt anyone. But I will, if I have to." He narrowed his eyes, and for a moment, Rogue saw what it was about Tavi that scared people. She forced a smile, then took to the sky to gather her former teammates.

 _*I think yer spooked her, lad, *_ Jono said. _*What did she say t'yer, when yer were talking?*_

"She wanted to know if it was true, about me. Wanted to know if I'd let her people talk to me about it." Tavi seemed oddly calm, and still somewhat distracted. He looked at Remy. "Poppa...we don't have much time. The Boss is coming. I can hear him."

Remy tensed. "How soon, petit?"

Tavi shook his head. "I don't know Poppa. Just soon. I can hear him, is all." He looked over at Jean-Paul, could sense his pain. Tavi reached out suddenly and pressed his palm to Jean-Paul's chest. That same warm glow emanated from his hand. Jean-Paul gasped as the pain left him. Tavi smiled shyly. "I hope that's better. I don't want you hurting, you know, when the Boss comes."

 _*Mush?*_ Jono looked at Jean-Paul with concern. Jean-Paul stripped off his bandages. The wounds were gone, not even a scar remained. Jean-Paul was shocked; Tavi was getting more powerful.

Remy looked at Tavi closely. That's when he noticed the pajamas he'd bought him seemed too small now. Creed had been right; Tavi was growing up. His face had lost some of it's baby roundness, and he no longer looked as young as when they'd first found him. Remy figured he'd aged at least a year in less than a month. How any of them had missed it, he wasn't sure. But it was obvious now. And as he aged, his powers were increasing, again, just as predicted. Remy was sure the only thing that was keeping the Genocide Machine at bay was the love and kindness Tavi had been given since they'd rescued him from the circus.

Carefully, Remy set Tavi down. "No matter what happens, mon fils, you fight it."

Tavi looked at his father. He knew what he meant. "I will Poppa. But if the Boss wants a fight with _me_ , he's gonna get one." Tavi set his jaw. "We should dress."

For a moment, Tavi's statement seemed so simply logical, it was almost comical. Remy laughed. After a moment, Jono and Jean-Paul both saw the humor in the situation.

"You got you a point, honey." Remy hugged Tavi close, felt his fear, and understood it. He looked at his son closely. He needed something from Tavi, something important. "Tell me your name, petit. Your _real_ name."

Tavi cocked his head to one side, momentarily confused. Then, it came to him. "I...I am Pierre-Michel LeBeau."

Remy nodded. "You're remembering more, aren't you?"

"All of it," Tavi whispered. "I'm afraid, Poppa."

"Afraid of what? De Marauders? Are you afraid dat dey will harm you? Take you away again?" Remy asked. Behind him, Jono and Jean-Paul looked on in fascination. "Because we won't let dat happen."

Tavi shook his head. "No." He paused, looked at how his pajamas were too small. "I don't want to grow up, Poppa."

"Why, petit? Why would dat scare you? Tell me, son...what are you so afraid of?"

Tavi grimaced. "Me." He bit his lower lip. "I'm afraid of what I will become. I am afraid that everything I was told I would be, is about to come true."

"No, petit. You are NOT dat t'ing. You are not a Genocide Machine." Remy looked Tavi in the eye. "You are my _son_ and I know you gonna make me proud." He pulled Tavi closer and kissed his cheek. "I know de real you, honey. You ain't no mindless killer. I know what it is to be judged. And I know what it is to be redeemed."

Tavi felt tears well up in his eyes. He hugged Remy tight. "Je t'aime, Poppa," he whispered.

Before Remy could answer, the rest of the X-Men arrived at the boathouse. Storm was standing at the front door, a kind and understanding look on her face; it was obvious she'd heard the whole conversation. In her hands, she held a bundle.

"I thought it best you have something appropriate to wear, Tavi. Hank made this for you; it will grow with you." She handed it to the little boy.

It was a customized uniform; dark brown, simple in design, with a large X near the shoulder. Knee-high boots with a special flap to allow his spurs out and matching gloves. Nothing fancy, but it was so much more than just a uniform; it was an acceptance, an apology, an invitation. He was now, and for always, an X-Man. _The Mongoose._

Tavi smiled up at her. "Merci, Ororo." He got up on his tiptoes and pressed a kiss to her cheek. She smiled back at him, obviously pleased.

"You are very welcome, little one," Storm said, stroking his hair with affection.

Tavi grew silent again, listening carefully. "They have our location. It won't be long now."

Logan laughed. "Then maybe the four of you should change, ya think? Be sorta embarrassing to get in a fight wearing yer jammies." He knelt down beside Tavi. "I want you to know, I'm sorry."

Tavi smiled at him. "I asked you to do it. I understand why you're afraid. But I promise, Logan, I won't turn bad. I _won't."_

Logan nodded his approval. Surprising him, Tavi gave him a quick hug, then ran off to change. He re-emerged, dressed in his new uniform, trying to look serious but unable to hide how excited he was with it. Remy and Jean-Paul appeared shortly after, wearing their customary uniforms. Jono, as always, had gone with his usual all-black ensemble: black T-shirt, leather motorcycle jacket, black leather pants, clunky Doc Marten boots.

Remy smiled down at Tavi. "You ready, petit?"

Tavi nodded soberly. He cocked his head again, listening. "I hear him...I hear the Boss. But the others...their thoughts are so different." He went pale, and reached for Remy's hand. "Poppa...they…"

A loud crack, like lightening, cut off his words. In seconds, it was chaos. Just outside the boat house, Sinister had appeared through a portal, surrounded by dozens of otherworldly creatures. They were completely black, no facial features except for staring white eyes and large, open mouths full of needle-like teeth. They carried strange, crook-like weapons.

"Wraiths!" Rogue shouted. The Avengers had tangled with them before. A violent race of aliens, soldiers-for-hire, available to the highest bidder.

"What the hell is THIS?" Iceman said as the strange beings began teleporting from spot to spot, engaging each X-Man. Safe behind a phalanx of the Wraiths, Sinister directed the attack.

"Take who I want, then go!" Sinister shouted.

Two of the Wraiths appeared beside Chamber, grabbed hold of him and slipped something around his neck, an inhibitor collar that negated his psionic fire. With the young Brit now powerless, the Wraiths began dragging him towards one of the odd, pulsating portals. Jono struggled, but one of his captors struck him with their Crook. He collapsed, barely conscious, bleeding from his head. The Wraith slung Jono over his shoulder.

"JONO!" Jean-Paul cried, racing to help his young lover.

Jono reached blindly for Northstar, terror in his eyes, as the portal began to close. He'd heard enough stories about Sinister to fear what was in store for him. Even as fast as he was, Jean-Paul didn't make it there in time. He felt the brush of Jono's fingertips against his, and then he was gone. Northstar felt his heart stop for a moment; he looked at his hands, feeling lost, confused, angry. How had he missed him? _How?_ The look of fear and panic on Jono's face as the portal closed felt like a punch in the chest.

"Non..." It was all Jean-Paul could say as he felt his world come crashing down around him.

Next to go was Gambit. Surrounded by the Wraiths, outnumbered, he was quickly taken, spirited away into another portal. Tavi howled and made right for Sinister, spurs out, sharp teeth bared, making that unique mongoose clicking sound.

"Give them BACK!" Tavi hissed, confronting the man who had terrorized him. "YOU GIVE THEM BACK!"

Sinister smiled down at him. "Ah, there you are my little Nobody. I'll give them back...dead, if you don't behave." He reached for Tavi. "Time to go home, don't you think?"

Tavi froze. He understood that Sinister was going to take him. But he did not fight. He would go with him, without a struggle, because he knew what the evil man would do to his father and Jono if he didn't.

"Don't hurt them, please. I'll do whatever you want," Tavi whispered. "I promise, I'll be a good boy."

"Oh, you will, will you?" Sinister laughed. "Ah, you amuse me, little Nobody. Shall we go, then?"

"Tavi, GET AWAY FROM HIM!" Storm cried, trying to fight her way through the mass of ebony-armored warriors that Sinister had brought with him. She could only watch, helpless, as Sinister scooped up the little boy and disappeared into the portal that had brought him.

And then it was over, almost before it had even started. All of the Wraiths vanished along with their master, leaving the stunned X-Men behind.

"What the fuck just happened?" Wolverine growled. He looked around, almost wild-eyed, to see who was missing: Gambit. Chamber. Tavi.

"He took them," Jean-Paul whispered, shaken to his core. He knew Sinister's reputation, knew the things he had done to both Remy and Tavi. " _Crisse...Crisse...he took them."_ He dropped to his knees, and as much as he hated himself for it, he wept openly. Nightcrawler knelt down beside him, laid an arm across Jean-Paul's shaking shoulders. For once, the stiff-necked speedster didn't refuse the comfort, letting Kurt hold him close.

"He'll use Remy and Jono to make Tavi comply," Beast muttered. "He knew what he was doing. Tavi will do anything Sinister wants, if it means protecting them."

"He took the boy for a reason," the White Queen whispered; the implication horrified her. "He's got something planned, and he needed his weapon back." Emma frowned darkly, wanting to tell them _I told you so_ but didn't. They knew. They all knew.

"That son of a bitch." Wolverine shook his head. "Jesus, what now?"

No one answered. No one knew what to do next, where to go. Sinister and their missing teammates could be anywhere.


	8. A Still and Frozen Heart

"Where is my Poppa?" Tavi whispered, looking at Sinister. There was an inhibitor collar around his neck, and his wrists and ankles were encased in metal cuffs, to prevent him from using his spurs.

Sinister glanced over at the boy, seated on an exam table. He was surprised how calm he seemed. It was almost unnerving. In under a month with the X-Men, it appeared as if almost all of Sinister's programming had been undone. That hadn't been the plan. It pissed him off, although he didn't show it.

"Don't call him that, little Nobody," Sinister muttered.

"My name is Pierre-Michel LeBeau, and I want to know where my Poppa is. And where is Jono? I want to see them." Tavi bared his teeth at Sinister and hissed softly.

Sinister drew back and slapped Tavi hard, a brutal back-handed blow that knocked the small mutant right off the table. Blood exploded from Tavi's nose, though he made no sound.

"Do NOT talk back to me," Sinister spat. "You are NOBODY."

Tavi growled. "My. Name. Is. PIERRE-MICHEL LEBEAU!"

Sinister kicked Tavi in the ribs. Tavi grunted, rolled with the blow. His tormenter glared down at him.

"What is your name? Think carefully about your answer; others' lives depend on it."

Tavi shuddered; he knew what Sinister was implying. He sat up and wiped the blood from his mouth.

"I...I am Nobody."

Another stinging slap. "You are Nobody WHAT?"

Tavi hung his head, defeated. "I am Nobody...SIR."

"That's a good boy," Sinister smiled warmly at Tavi, then extended his hand. Reluctantly, Tavi took it and let the man help him stand. Sinister picked him up and sat him back on the exam table. "Now, so long as you behave yourself, your friends will be unharmed." He turned to a set of monitors, and switched them on. One showed Remy, alone in a cell, a collar around his neck. He seemed, for the most part, alright. The other one showed Jono, a little less worse for wear. He'd obviously fought his captors, and been beaten for it. There was an ugly bruise above his right eye, and his nose appeared to be broken, oozing thick, black blood. Tavi moaned at the sight.

"Please don't hurt them," Tavi begged. "I'll do whatever you want, Sir. I promise!"

Sinister smiled again and actually patted Tavi's shoulder with almost paternal affection. "I know you will, little Nobody." He paused and set about drawing blood from Tavi. Throughout the entire procedure, Tavi sat still and quiet. He was used to this. "You're probably wondering why I came back for you," Sinister said conversationally.

Tavi shrugged. "I don't know what you want, Sir."

"It's simple, Nobody. I want my Genocide Machine." He paused and looked at Tavi closely. "You really don't know what you are, do you?"

Tavi smiled. It was not a pleasant sight. "A killer. Sir."

Sinister frowned. The boy was supposed to be afraid of him. He tried to hide his discomfort, busying himself with studying the results of the tests he'd run on Tavi. When he'd last seen Tavi, the boy had been the equivalent of a seven year old. In a month, he'd aged over a year. He was taller, leaner, and definitely more powerful. What would he be like as an adult? The thought almost scared Sinister.

"You're growing up," Sinister finally said.

Tavi cocked his head to one side. "Is this a bad thing, Sir? If you want your Genocide Machine, shouldn't I be the very best one?" He laughed suddenly. "Will you let me free? Will you let the real me out? Or are you afraid of me, like everyone else?"

Sinister was stunned. He slapped Tavi again. Tavi took the blow without a sound, without complaint.

"I'm not afraid of you, little Nobody. I control you. I own you. So long as I have them," he waved his hand at the monitors, "you will do whatever I want."

"Of course I will, Sir," Tavi said, shrugging, nonchalant. Inside, he was terrified. He was amazed that his false show of bravado seemed to be working. He was trying to convince Sinister of his compliance. All he needed was for the man to become complacent, trust that his technology - the inhibitor collar - was working. What Sinister didn't know was that the collar had no effect on Tavi; he just hoped the son of bitch wouldn't figure it out before he had a chance to free his loved ones. He was afraid he might have to kill Sinister, something he didn't want to do, no matter how much he hated him. If he was really lucky, the X-Men would find them before it came to that. He'd already sent a telepathic SOS to Emma, hoping beyond hope that it had reached her.

Sinister looked at Tavi closely. "I have a mission for you."

Tavi smiled again, that same cold, blood-thirsty smile. "I serve only you, Sir."

Jono was lying on his back on the cold metal floor of his cell, wishing he could vocalize the pain he was in. He knew his nose was broken. Probably a couple of ribs, too. Both his hands were sprained, knuckles torn from trying to fight the Marauders who had "greeted" him upon his arrival at Sinister's lair. The only thing that made him feel better was that he'd gotten in some good punches of his own before he'd been beaten down.

He hated the inhibitor collar. Not only did it prevent him from using his psionic powers, but his telepathy was silenced, too. It was his only means of communication, and without it, he was truly mute. He thought about Jean-Paul, worried that he had also been taken. He hated not knowing what had happened to his lover. Thoughts of their first night together, the gentle love they had made, caused his heart to ache with longing. He hated to admit it, but he was scared. Scared for himself, yes, but moreso for the others: Tavi. Remy. And most of all, Jean-Paul. He wondered if he'd ever see them again.

The door to Jono's cell swung open. Three of Sinister's Marauders filed in, the same ones he'd fought with. Blockbuster: Michael Baer. A former German terrorist and superhumanly strong mutant who had stood up to blows from Thor. Scalphunter: John Graycrow. A former military man, the group's tactician, and the most violent of them all, a technomorph capable of changing the configuration of any technological device. And finally Prism: Robbie, no known last name. A cold-blooded killer who could morph into a crystalline shape. Cocky, bold and ruthless.

Jono glared at them, which only brought laughs from Blockbuster. The big mutant knelt down beside Jono and pulled down his bandages, revealing the gruesome damage to his face. Baer sneered, disgust written clearly on his own.

"Goddamn, boy, you are one ugly motherfucker." Baer put the bandages back in place. "The rest of you is sure pretty, though. Isn't he, fellas? Pretty as a girl." His jibe made his compatriots laugh coldly. Jono tried to hide his fear. The way they were looking at him...it made his skin crawl.

"Sinister said we can't hurt ya. Didn't say nothin' about not having a little fun," Scalphunter grinned. He looked over at Prism. "What you think he looks like under all that woe-is-me goth clothing?"

Robbie shrugged. He wasn't really comfortable with what they were about to do. Not that he minded torturing the young Brit; he was afraid that Sinister might disapprove.

"Only one way to find out," Blockbuster said, grinning. "Hold him." He unsheathed a knife, and while his two companions restrained Jono, he carefully cut away the young Brit's clothing. Throughout it all, Jono remained perfectly still, refusing to give them the satisfaction of struggling. He knew they were going to take his body. He was damned if he would give them his fear.

Once Jono was naked, Baer stood back and appreciated the view. "You might have an ugly mug, kid, but you sure got a sweet little bod." He licked his lips. "Me first."

Jono closed his eyes. Without his telepathy, he couldn't cry out, or, as the pain of being violated rocketed through his body and soul, even beg for them to stop. Angry, silent tears slipped down his face as, one by one, they each took their turn with him.

After what seemed an eternity, when they were finally done with Jono, they left him, nude, beaten, blood leaking between his legs, in the empty cold cell. Alone, Jono curled up in a tight little ball, his body shaking uncontrollably, filled with shame and pain.

Tavi was struggling to control his fury. He'd sensed Jono's pain and fear, and while he didn't understand what was done to him, he knew it was bad. Very bad. His heart ached, that his beloved Jono had been brutalized, and he'd done nothing to stop it.

 _*Emma Emma Emma...where ARE YOU?*_ Tavi sent out, desperate.

Then, like a whisper in his ear, he heard her. _*Tavi, be quiet. We hear you. We've got your location. Don't send to me again; we can't risk anyone overhearing. Don't do anything until we get there.*_

Tavi bit back an angry telepathic retort; he knew Emma was right, but he hated being chastised. Still, he was comforted knowing the X-Men were on their way.

Sinister was furious. He looked at Blockbuster. "Did I give you permission to harm the boy?" He pointed to the monitor that peered in on Jono's cell. Jono was still curled up in the fetal position on the cold, bare floor, naked, not moving. Baer just shrugged. Sinister shook his head, disappointed, but he wasn't about to let an opportunity to torment Gambit pass. He hated the man.

"Take him to LeBeau's cell."

Blockbuster grinned. "Yes Sir. With pleasure."

Unnoticed, sitting quietly on the exam table, Tavi seethed.

Remy squinted and looked up as his cell door was opened. He watched, stunned, as Jono's limp, naked body was dragged in by Blockbuster and Scalphunter. They dumped him next to Remy.

"Brought you some company, LeBeau. Hope you enjoy him as much as we did."

"You fucking _bastards!"_ Remy hissed, gathering Jono into his arms. He held the young man close, protectively. Blockbuster laughed at him, then kicked the Cajun in the face. Remy's head snapped back, and he saw stars.

The two Marauders left, the sound of their laughter trailing behind them. Seeing Jono's injuries, Remy knew right away what had been done him. It made his entire body thrum with a wild fury. He took his duster off and gently wrapped Jono in it, then pulled him into his arms again.

"Cher...oh Dieu, Jono...I'm so sorry…" Remy held Jono tight, wishing there was more that he could do, something that he could say to ease Jono's pain.

Jono looked up at Remy, unable to communicate with him. But the fear and anguish and heart-wrenching shame in the other man's eyes told Remy everything. He began to silently cry, clinging to Remy, his entire body shaking.

"I got you, Jono, I got you. I'm here," Remy soothed, rocking him. He closed his eyes, and for the first time in years, he prayed.

Tavi sensed his father's emotions, his pain, his fear, his anger. He knew he had to act; waiting for the X-Men to save them was no longer an option. He would have to go it alone. He drew upon that inner strength that Remy had first sensed in him, swallowed down his fear, and braced himself for what he had to do.

"Sir?" Tavi said. Sinister turned around and looked at him.

"What do you want, Nobody?"

Tavi raised his hands. The metal cuffs encasing his wrists and ankles flew off. "MY NAME IS PIERRE-MICHEL LEBEAU!" And then he hit Sinister with the full force of his formidable telekinetic power. The man flew across his lab, struck the wall, and slid down, stunned.

"You little BRAT!" Sinister shouted, trying to get to his feet. Tavi leapt on him, just as he had Emma, and unsheathed his wrist spurs.

" _I hate you,"_ Tavi hissed, then sunk those spurs into Sinister's neck, flooding him with his venom. Sinister gurgled, flailed weakly for a moment, then slumped forward. Tavi didn't even bother to check to see if he'd killed him. He got to his feet, wondering what he should do next. He reached out with his mind, seeking out the Marauders. Three of them, in particular.

He found them sitting in a kind of break room, drinking beer and laughing about what they'd done to Jono. Baer was the first to notice the little mutant standing in the doorway. Tavi was looking at them, making that clicking sound, ears back, teeth bared, tail swishing from side to side. Furious. Fearless.

"What the fuck is this shit?" Prism asked, setting down his beer. He looked nervous. Tavi hissed at him.

"You're bad men, very bad men, all of you," Tavi whispered. He swung his head from left to right, assessing his opponents. As expected, Blockbuster was the first to challenge him. Tavi did nothing, waiting for him, ready. The big mutant crossed the room in four angry strides, and snatched up Tavi by the scruff of his neck.

"I don't know what the fuck you're doing wandering around here, you little rodent…"

Tavi hissed at Baer, reached out and placed his palms against the man's chest. Concentrated. Instead of the warm healing glow that Hank and Jean-Paul had experienced, this was cold, dark and ugly. Blockbuster howled as the bones in his arms and legs shattered. He dropped to the floor, in shock, lucky that broken bones were the only thing Tavi had done to him.

"That's for what you did to Jono," Tavi whispered in Baer's ear. "I hope it hurts." He turned his attention on the other two Marauders. "Who is next?" He didn't wait for an answer, and went for Scalphunter.

Tavi knew, with the man's rapid regenerative powers, that he would have to take a different approach with him. "Let's see how you like being scared," Tavi growled. He sought out the man's mind, and sent it spinning into Hell. Like Baer, Greycrow collapsed, a look of pure fear in his eyes. Inside his head, a nightmare scenario played out, a thousand terrors all at once. He screamed in fear, a truly terrifying sound, then began to whimper, his hands pressed to his head.

Tavi looked at Prism and bared his teeth. A low growl rose up from deep in his throat.

"Your turn."

"Get away from me, you little _freak!"_ Prism morphed into his crystalline form. Not that it did him any good. Tavi pointed at him and hissed.

"I am not a freak. I am an X-MAN!" With that, Tavi used his powerful telekinetic powers to send Robbie flying against across the room. As Tavi was advancing on him, he heard a familiar voice behind him.

"Tavi, don't. That's enough, mon chou."

Tavi whirled around. It was Jean-Paul, arms extended. With him were Storm and Iceman; the others were off searching the rest of Sinister's lair, engaging the remaining Marauders and Wraiths. Tavi felt an overwhelming rush of love, and, reverting to the young boy that he was, bravado gone, he launched himself into Jean-Paul's arms. Beaubier held him close.

"I didn't kill them, I promise, I promise," Tavi whispered. "But they had to be stopped, and I didn't know what else to do, I'm sorry…"

"Shh...you have been very brave, sweetheart." Jean-Paul leaned back and looked closely at Tavi. "Do you know where they are holding Remy and Jono? We cannot find them." There was no hiding the fear in Jean-Paul's eyes; fear that his friend and his lover were both dead.

"They're alive," Tavi whispered, but he couldn't meet Jean-Paul's eyes. "I know where they are. But Jono…" he made a strangled little sound. "He...they hurt him, Jean-Paul. These men here...they _hurt him bad."_

Jean-Paul paled. "Take us to them, Tavi. Hurry."

Tavi nodded and took Jean-Paul by the hand. By seeking out Remy's thoughts, he was able to lead them to where the two captive X-Men were being held. Down a narrow hallway, they found several cells with heavy steel doors.

"Which one, Tavi?" Storm asked. Beside her, Iceman tensed, scanning for danger. Tavi ran to the last cell and laid his hands against the door.

"In here!" Tavi concentrated, found the lock with his mind, and disabled it. Jean-Paul gently moved Tavi aside, and swung the door open. His heart jumped into his throat at the sight of Jono curled up beside Remy.

"Jono…" Jean-Paul whispered hoarsely. Seeing his young lover beaten, his body brutalized, dried rivulets of blood on his naked thighs, it nearly drove Jean-Paul mad with rage. Trembling, he knelt down beside Jono and pulled him into his arms.

"Ah, mon coeur, mon amour," Jean-Paul sighed, gently kissing Jono's battered face. Jono could only shake his head, too overwhelmed to do anything else. There was no mistaking the shame he felt as he buried his face in Jean-Paul's shoulder, trying to hide his tears.

"Poppa!" Tavi cried, throwing his arms around his father. Remy held tight to him, cooing soft words of comfort in his son's ear. After a moment, Tavi gently touched the collar around Remy's throat, freeing him from the hated thing. Next, he removed Jono's, then pressed his palm to Jono's chest. While he could not heal Jono's wounded soul, he could at least his heal his ravaged body.

 _*Mush, I'm so sorry…*_ Jono tried to sit up, but collapsed against Jean-Paul.

"No, do not say that, mon amour," Jean-Paul kissed Jono's cheek. He stood, lifting Jono into his arms, making sure to keep Remy's coat wrapped tightly around Jono's shivering body. He looked at Storm; it was obvious that he was struggling to contain his rage. "I am going to get him back to the school. Now."

Storm nodded and laid her hand against Jean-Paul's cheek. "I will make sure that Sinister and the Marauders never hurt any of us again." She paused and pressed a kiss to Jono's brow, then looked back up at Jean-Paul. "Go now. Take my little brother home."


	9. Broken

Jean-Paul landed gently in front of the Boathouse, Jono held close in his strong arms. He was worried; throughout the flight, Jono hadn't said a word to him. After Jono's initial outburst upon first seeing Jean-Paul in the cell back at Sinister's lair, he hadn't displayed any further emotions. No more tears, nothing. Except shame. Shame so deep, Jean-Paul didn't need to be an empath to feel it.

Pushing the door open with his foot, Jean-Paul carried Jono into the old building in a sad reenactment of their first night together, when Jono had scooped him up from the couch and carried him into the bedroom where they would share a night of new love. They'd been so happy, the two of them, discovering one another, relishing in the joy of each other's bodies.

Jono was such a generous lover, young and eager to please Jean-Paul, the man he'd never thought would return his love with such fierce desire. Now, Jean-Paul knew he had to reassure Jono that no matter what had been done to him, he still loved and wanted him.

He set Jono down on the bed and looked carefully at him. Jono couldn't meet Jean-Paul's steady gaze, could only stare down at his hands, folded tightly in his lap.

"Jono, s'il te plaît, look at me, my love," Jean-Paul whispered. When Jono didn't respond, he reached out and placed his finger beneath Jono's chin. Jono shied away from the touch. That flinch threatened to break Jean-Paul's heart. "Jono, tell me, what can I do?" Jean-Paul's voice was soft, pitched low, like someone trying to calm a spooked horse.

For a long time, Jono remained silent, still, almost frozen. Finally, in a very quiet, defeated voice, he answered: _*Bath.*_

Jean-Paul felt that deep ache in his heart again. Jono looked so young, so vulnerable.

"Stay here. I will be right back. I love you, Jono. That has not changed. You are still _you_." Jean-Paul whispered, pressing his palm to Jono's chest.

Jono nodded, but said nothing. Jean-Paul pressed a soft kiss to his brow, then went into the adjoining bathroom. The tub was old, a huge porcelain thing, so deep and wide that it could easily fit them both. He filled it with steaming water, added some lavender oil, then set a couple of big, fluffy towels on the washstand. Satisfied, he stepped back into the bedroom, and knelt down before Jono.

"Your bath is ready. Do you want me to leave you to your privacy?"

Jono looked at him, eyes wide with fear. He reached out and took hold of Jean-Paul's hand, gripping it so hard that it made Jean-Paul wince. _*NO! Please, Mush, don't leave me alone.*_

"Of course not, my love. I am by your side, always. Always, do you understand?" Jean-Paul helped Jono out of Remy's borrowed coat and then pulled him into his arms. He led Jono into the bathroom and with great tenderness, lifted him into the bath. Once Jono was settled into the steaming, scented water, Jean-Paul stripped off his uniform, set a folded towel down on the tiled floor, and knelt beside the tub.

 _*Wash it away, Mush. Wash them from me,*_ Jono's eyes were pleading with Jean-Paul; the pain in those beautiful brown eyes was devastating. Jean-Paul took a soft washcloth, loaded it with soap, and began gently scrubbing Jono's body, starting with his feet and working his way up. Jono leaned back and shut his eyes, imagining the filth of those men being washed from his body and soul.

Jean-Paul was humming softly, soothing the frightened young man. When he reached between Jono's legs, he stopped, fearing it might be too much. Jono took hold of his hand and looked at him.

 _*Please, love, please. I need ter be clean. I need yer, Mush.*_ Jono looked at Jean-Paul with such naked emotion, such raw need, it took his breath away. Jean-Paul put more soap on the cloth and lovingly cleaned that part of Jono that had been so violently used. Jono groaned softly. Then, without warning, Jono grabbed both Jean-Paul's hands and pulled him into the tub with him, sending a wave of water sloshing over the rim and onto the tiles.

"Jono, what are you doing?" Jean-Paul asked, concerned, as Jono gripped his waist, positioning him so that he was sitting in Jono's lap, face to face with him. Jean-Paul was surprised to feel Jono's cock, hard and straining upward, pressing urgently against his own. Despite himself, Jean-Paul shivered.

 _*Want yer, Mush. Want yer bad,*_ Jono's voice had taken on that husky, smoky quality that Jean-Paul recognized from their first time together. It was what Jean-Paul had teasingly called his sex voice. But now, it worried him.

"Jono, mon amour, you have been through a terrible ordeal. What was done to you…"

Jono shook his head fiercely. _*I was_ _ **raped**_ _, Jean-Paul. Yer can say it. They cut off me clothes, laughed at me face, me ugly fuckin' gob, then they each took their turn. They were disgusting and they didn't care if they 'urt me.*_ Jono stopped suddenly and grabbed hold of Jean-Paul, crushing his body to his own. _*I feel dirty. I was so afraid yer'd think I was dirty, too.*_ And then Jono began to weep, silent tears streaming down his face. His shoulders shook, and he buried his face in Jean-Paul's chest.

"Ah non, non, Jono! Ah love, please, do not ever think that!" Jean-Paul covered Jono's face in more kisses, cooing sweet words of love, of reassurance until Jono was calm again. Jono crinkled his eyes and gently bumped his forehead against Jean-Paul's. He slid his hands slowly down his lover's back, pulling him closer, reaching down to cup Jean-Paul's beautiful ass in both hands. His cock was hard, velvet over marble, brushing deliciously against Jean-Paul's own growing erection.

 _*I want to make love t'yer Mush. Take it away. Take_ _ **them**_ _away. I need yer, luv. I need yer t'be wif me now.*_

Jean-Paul's resistance crumbled. He stood and helped Jono out of the tub. He grabbed one of the towels and rubbed them both dry, then led Jono into the bedroom. He knew he had to let Jono take the lead, to be in control, and was willing to do anything to help his lover regain his sense of self.

Neither of them spoke. Jean-Paul dropped to his knees before Jono and wrapped his arms around his thighs, pressing his face against belly. He breathed deeply, taking in Jono's musky scent, and sighed happily. Jono buried his hands in Jean-Paul's thick black hair, loving the silky feel of it, loving the deep groan he got in response. Jean-Paul kissed Jono's stomach, delicately rimmed his navel with the tip of his clever tongue, then moved to his favorite part of Jono's body: the rise of muscle that ran alongside his jutting hipbone. It was almost a fetish for him, that sensitive strip of muscle.

 _*Ah, Mush, I love yer,*_ Jono sighed as Jean-Paul kissed and licked that sexy expanse. Jean-Paul slid his hands up the back of Jono's thighs, and cupped his sweet, rounded ass, drawing him closer.

"This is what you want, mon amour?" Jean-Paul asked, looked up at Jono with half-lidded eyes. Jono loved that look, the sultriness of it, how it showed so clearly Jean-Paul's love and desire for him.

 _*God yes, luv. Yer mouth is so gorgeous, so beautiful.*_

Jean-Paul smiled at that, pleased. He realized that he needed this as much as Jono did.

Jono felt an erotic rush of pleasure as Jean-Paul took his cock in his hands with a kind of reverance. He dipped his head and delicately licked the head, briefly exploring the slit for a moment before taking Jono completely in his mouth in one fluid movement.

 _*Jesus God yes!*_ Jono pulled on Jean-Paul's hair, guiding him, setting the pace. Jean-Paul moaned, and the vibration of it nearly pushed Jono over the edge. He didn't want to cum so soon, and yanked Jean-Paul's head back. _*No, baby, not yet, not yet.*_

Jean-Paul looked up at him through his thick lashes, waiting. For some reason Jono didn't quite understand at that moment, that look of absolute surrender in Jean-Paul's eyes was the sexiest thing he'd ever seen. He pulled Jean-Paul to his feet and lifted him onto the bed, pushing him onto his back and straddling his waist.

 _*God yer so beautiful,*_ Jono said, running his hands up and down Jean-Paul's body, gripping and kneading the muscles. Jean-Paul began to squirm in response, his narrow hips jerking up involuntarily, begging. Jono flipped him over, marveled for a moment at his ass, grabbing it with both hands. Jean-Paul spread his legs and lifted his rear up, a clear gesture of want, of invitation, of submission. Jono reached into the nightstand and grabbed the lube, slathering his cock with it. Jean-Paul craned his neck over his shoulder, smiling as he watched.

"Do you have any idea how fucking sexy that is?" Jean-Paul's perfect mouth curled into a smile. Jono made a grunting noise, completely focused now on Jean-Paul. He pressed his palm to the small of Jean-Paul's back, holding him still. He guided his cock into that hot and secret part of his lover, pushing gently.

"Ah, Jono! Oui! OUI! All of you, s'il te plaît!" Jean-Paul ground his slim hips into the sheets in beautiful frustration. All pretense of gentleness disappeared. Jono slammed into Jean-Paul hard and fast, his lover crying out encouragement with each thrust.

"Crisse! Crisse! Yes! Fuck me fuck me Jono! Ah, je t'aime, je t'aime Jono!" Jean-Paul twisted up and around, enough that Jono was able to wrap one arm around him and pull him close as he continued to thrust into him. Jean-Paul braced himself against the headboard, his head thrown back in ecstasy, the muscles of his neck standing out in stark relief. He pushed back against Jono, hard, meeting him with equal force.

"Fuck you...you are...you are going to make me cum!" Jean-Paul panted. He was so close. Jono slipped his arm around Jean-Paul's waist and gripped his cock, fisting it mercilessly until Jean-Paul came screaming. Jono was only seconds behind him.

 _*Jesus fuck yes, luv, YES, fuck!*_ Jono came hard, for what seemed forever, like he would never stop. It left him trembling and weak. Jean-Paul groaned as he felt the full weight of Jono as he collapsed on top of him. They lay like that for a while, slicked with sweat and cum. Finally, Jono pulled away from him. Jean-Paul made a little sound, almost a whimper, and rolled over, drawing Jono into his arms. He held his trembling lover close, and was not surprised when Jono began to weep.

"Je t'aime, Jono. Je t'aime, mon coeur. Calme toi," Jean-Paul cooed, stroking Jono's back, covering his face in whispery little kisses. After a while, Jono's tears subsided, and he gave a heavy sigh. Exhaustion overtook him, and he struggled to stay awake.

 _*I love yer, Jean-Paul.*_ Jono nuzzled his lover's neck, closed his eyes and slept. Jean-Paul held him all night, through the nightmares, soothing him, humming like he did, until the sun rose on a new and bright day.


End file.
